


The Reparation Job

by Pohadka



Series: The Job Between Here and There [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Leverage, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Trigger Words, But not always, Daddy Issues, Implied Non-Con, M/M, Multi, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Original Characters - Freeform, Seattle, Slow Build, This is where we get serious, Updating tags as I go, agents of shield are mostly background, bucky barnes and a cat, long slow build, never shown implied non-con, slow build finally paying off, stupid long slow build, yes I yelled at myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 80,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pohadka/pseuds/Pohadka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost two years after the sky rained fire and ruin around him, James Buchanan Barnes is finally feeling settled in the world.  He has a family, he has a job, and he's starting to reconnect to the rest of the world, including one Steven Grant Rogers.  But Hydra is never far behind, and there are other forces at work to disrupt his path out of the darkness.  Turns out, all they needed was a little... Leverage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ryde All Night

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, the final part of the main triptych of this story. I think the stage is all set, now we just got to let the characters do their thing. Gulp! Got lots of things planned for this, just hang with me! I have a feeling it's going to be longer than the first two parts.  
> Updates every Friday.  
> Beta read as always by the fabulous Florianna. I think we're beyond cupcakes now. All errors are mine in the end though.
> 
> SPOILER ALERT!  
> There will be spoilers here for all five seasons of Leverage.   
> Ditto for all the MCU movies. I'm borrowing very liberally despite this being non Civil War compliant.  
> Threetto (second ditto?) for Agents of SHIELD TV series, both Seasons 2 & 3.

“My grandad started this business, right after he came over from Mumbai. Well, it was called Bombay then.” The speaker was a middle aged Indian man, nicely dressed but obviously tired. Kaleb Srinivasa had found his way to the restaurant after a Russian girl had traded him a business card and what was left on her gift card for a ride south to Tacoma. “My dad took over when Grandad decided he wanted to go home for good. Then I took over a few years ago after dad had to have heart surgery. Sixty years, Seattle’s been good to us. But now we’re starting to feel the bite.” 

This time, it was Eliot, James, and Parker sitting in to meet with the client. They were sitting at the quiet zone table they reserved for themselves and their friends. James was happy that he didn’t stand out at all anymore, thanks to the holographic sleeve the techs at Shield had designed for him. It mirrored his right arm onto his left, leaving him with two seemingly normal hands, and it was even waterproof. He loved it. Combined with the purple streaks Alice had put in his hair, hardly anyone in Seattle reacted to him. She was over at the bar arguing over the virtues of pumpkin wine for the autumn menus with Hardison. James agreed with Alice, pumpkin had its place and it wasn’t in alcohol. 

“It’s this ride share company, Rydr? I’ve heard a lot about them,” Eliot said, leaning in and playing with the packets of sugar at the table. It had only been two months since the showdown against Vassiliev and James knew that Eliot’s arm still twinged as it healed. He said it was like tiny shocks of electricity along the bone. That was altogether a very familiar sensation to James, typical of healing outside the cryo tank. 

“That’s it exactly. I don’t know how, but they’ve gotten city laws rewritten to benefit them. They let anyone with a driver’s license and a car work for them, and now? Now they’ve crashed the app I paid for. I figured I’d play their game so I could still compete with them.” Kaleb looked miserable. Almost all their clients did, except the ones who hid behind stone faces. Sophie had explained that it was the stress of everything imploding that caused it. Now that made sense to him. 

Parker took over now. “An app? Once Hardison quits acting up back there, he can fix that pretty quickly. What happened with the app?” 

Kaleb shook his head again. “I hired this kid to create it for me, and all it did was redirect my users to Rydr. That’s what THEY paid him to do. And I can’t get it taken down because he’s got the creator rights.” He sighed, then shrugged. “All I want is a fair chance to stay in business. I don’t mind competition, but they’re treating all the other cab companies just like me. And they’re blocking other ride share companies from working here too. They want a monopoly, and I know that’s not legal at all.” 

Parker shared a quick smile with James, letting him in on the joke. “No it’s not,” she told Kaleb. “But we have ways to help take care of things like that.” 

The meeting ended quickly after that. Parker went to wrangle Hardison away from the argument while James and Eliot went upstairs. “I’m curious what you guys are going to come up with for this one,” James said, heading for the kitchen to find a protein bar or shake that he could stomach. This week, his taste buds decided to short out and he hadn’t found anything palatable yet. Fitz had warned that there might be electrical interference from the sleeve, but James didn’t want to take it off to find out if that’s what it was just yet. Downside was that it made eating in front of people even more awkward when he couldn’t finish anything. He already knew Eliot was getting suspicious.

“I’ve already got a couple things in mind. Most of them involves extra people, more than just the four of us. Might be time to give Alice and DA a chance to join in.” Eliot had gone over to his desk to dig around in his personal files, his back turned to James.

“You sure that’s safe? I know they both said they wanted to help but…” James let the statement hang. 

Eliot didn’t get a chance to answer. Parker and Hardison came in, arguing loudly. “Hardison, no. You tried all those crazy flavored beers in Portland and they didn’t work. Why do you think wine would be any easier?” 

“Parker, it’s Halloween. Having pumpkin flavored wine would be like having butterbeer. You know, from Harry Potter!” 

“That theme park in Florida?” Parker paused to cock her head at Hardison, frowning in confusion. For Parker’s sake, James kept his confused look on, but internally he was laughing. He was halfway through Prisoner of Azkaban right now, himself.

“Girl. You did not… You know what? I’m just gonna forget you said that. Hi Eliot, hi James. Shall we get to work now?” 

James laughed as the four of them took their usual spots. Whatever Eliot had been looking for, he seemed to have found it. He had a thick folder on the desk in front of him, wedged under his elbow as if to keep it in place.

“Okay, so I’ve already done some research. Meet Max Janda,” Hardison started, throwing up his usual collage of photos and information on the main screen. “Currently thirty-four, this is his third startup business. First one was a delivery app in San Francisco, Yelp bought him out pretty quickly. Second business was a lot sleazier.” Hardison threw an apologetic look at James. “A not so fun part of the 21st century, revenge porn. It’s when someone gets naughty pictures of you while you’re dating, then after they break up with you, they post those pictures online.” 

“Usually with your name and contact information,” Eliot growled. “Yeah I’ve dealt with a case or two of those for friends of friends.” 

“Naughty pictures, you mean like…” Parker paled, then grabbed at her phone. “No! He needs to burn. Can we make him burn?” 

“Parker, that’s what we do. And yeah, he’s gonna burn,” Hardison reassured her. “Besides, that’s MY phone your photos are on, so yeah, no one’s touching that.” He winked at her, and James smiled to himself as she put the phone down again. “Anyways, continuing. He dropped that site just days before an injunction was filed against it and him. That case is still ongoing, by the way. Now he runs Rydr. It’s mostly based here in Seattle, but from what I’ve found out so far, he plans to take it national within the next year, global within three. He’s setting himself up to be real competition against Uber and Lyft, and he’s doing a good job pushing them out of Seattle, as well as Mr. Srinivasa’s Lucky Star cab company. Right now, there’s only a couple small independent companies left, plus Yellow Cab, Uber, Lyft, and Rydr in town. And the memo running around Lyft’s headquarters in San Francisco is that it might be wise to pull out and let Uber take the first stage of the fight. Judging from the run of success that Janda’s had, for a little company like this, it’s possible that some of those photos from his old website might be blackmail material now.” 

“There’s something else I want to go after, while we do this job. He’s been on my personal list since we moved here,” Eliot interrupted. He flipped the folder open and handed several sheets to Hardison. “He’s pretty ballsy about showing off his black market artifacts.” 

Hardison took the file, then keyed up the digital form to throw on the screen. An architectural journal had written about the remodeling of the main lobby of Rydr’s home office. In the center was a long dugout canoe, and while the article did credit it’s origin to the local Nisqually tribe, it did nothing to argue against Janda’s right to own it. The second article on the screen did that part, about a site that tracked artifacts stolen from Native American tribes in an effort to spur repatriation. The same photo centered both articles.

“That canoe dates back to the Puget Sound War of 1855,” Eliot said. His voice was low, the one that James identified as angry. He chewed on the dry protein bar and listened. “It was claimed as spoils of war by James Tilton, one of the state surveyors who also served in the militia. His family kept it for a few generations, then loaned it to a museum until it was purchased by a rail tycoon in 1907. It was preserved and stored at their personal home until 1956, when it was presumably stolen. Insurance paid out on it. Turned up again in 2010 in the private collection of a black market dealer. But instead of being given back to the Nisqually like they requested, it was auctioned off and bought by Janda in 2014. There’s a legal battle going on about the provenance on the boat, but they don’t think they’ll win. I wanna get it back for them.” 

“You are serious about your history and artwork. And yeah, it should go back. We might be able to work it in. Maybe another fiddle game?” Parker asked.

“Nah, that one’s played out.” The three of them started to plot, the language going right over his head as usual. So James left them to decide and wandered over to the Steve screen. Captain America had been pretty quiet lately. All the other Avengers were going out more, but not Steve. That was something James was thinking maybe he should start looking into now.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Rogers, you look like shit. Literally. What did they make you do, go swimming in the sewers?” Rebecca Barnes stood outside (and upwind from) the Quinjet as he walked off. Alone. “And I guess you smell like it, since Wanda called and said she’d be flying back on commercial. She hates commercial.” 

Steve gave her a face, heading straight for the decontamination ward. “Don’t even joke about that. It couldn’t have smelled any worse than this.” It was near bliss to start stripping down out of his now-retired uniform. At least the shield was as resistant to this muck as it was to bullets. It was bad enough that he didn’t even care that the decom unit wasn’t set to private, and more than just Rebecca’s eyes were on him. 

He wondered if he’d ever smell anything again. 

Rebecca kept talking while he cleaned up though, which did help. “The intel you got was good. We found another lab type place, liberated a few test subjects. Maria’s negotiating their status with Spain and flights here, if they want it.” 

He froze, looking up at the window. “Test subjects? They were trying to make more soldiers?” 

“We’re uh, not quite sure. I’m on meet and greet cause Fitz-Simmons are working on the project notes to see exactly what it was. Way above my pay grade.” Rebecca smiled down at him, shrugging. “Tolya’s having his English lesson right now anyways.” 

“Right, I’ll avoid the labs then.” Steve couldn’t help it, his shoulders still folded in as he ducked under the water. 

“Steve, for the ten thousandth time…”

“It’s not my fault, I know Rebecca,” he finished for her. He didn’t look up, choosing to duck his head under the water as his memory helpfully replayed the day Vassiliev had gotten a mere glimpse of him. If Tony hadn’t designed the Hulk Suite, it might’ve been more than just two doors the Russian had gotten through before they’d managed to sedate. They had learned one useful thing from that event though. 

The kill order overrode any other command they had discovered so far. 

Simmons had been hopeful at that. “If that overrides everything else and we can discover how it’s done, we can at least lay in a new command, even if we can’t erase all the others. It’s something at least.” 

Steve pushed that all away and gave himself a fourth lathering instead. “The intel, did it cough up anything else?” 

“Yeah, but it can wait until you’re out of the shower,” Rebecca replied. “Come to the office when you’re done? I saved you some of Ma’s cookies she sent up yesterday.” 

“Oh so now you’re bribing me. Got it.” He flashed a smile up at her, glad that he knew at least one normal person in this place.

“Yup. And for god’s sake, hurry up Rogers. You look like my four-year-old nephew with all that soap on you!” 

#

Not only did she have cookies, she had the French press coffee she’d gotten him hooked on. “You smell like disinfectant,” she complained.

“Better than what I did smell like. And I can smell this. Bless you.” Steve took the over-sized mug gratefully before taking a long grateful sip.

“Well those are good things, yeah.” Rebecca smiled, pushing the plate of cookies closer to his side of the desk. It was cramped, since she had to share it, but right now it was just the two of them. “Please tell me you got a little sleep on the flight?” 

“Little is an apt description. I couldn’t even use my phone for music.” He made a face, then leaned forward at the files on her desk. “So tell me where we stand.” 

“Two inches closer than we did last week?” Rebecca sighed and dropped back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m frustrated too. Even though I’m not exactly sure why I’m still here.” 

“Because it fascinates the hell out of you. And because you want to meet James,” he blurted, reaching across to pick up the file. Then he smiled sheepishly at her, taking one of the peanut butter cookies too. “I’m glad you’re here. You and Sam keep me sane.” 

“Sane is debatable with you.” She swung side to side in her chair. He knew that look, so he read the file while she dredged up the courage to slice him again. It wasn’t intentional, they both knew it. But it didn’t make it any easier when she said things like, “I’m under orders to go out to Seattle and bring him home. Grandma says she’s waited long enough. And Aunt Georgie won’t let her fly out there because of her heart.” 

Steve winced. “Ow. Those two make me look flexible. I’m sorry.” 

Rebecca relaxed instantly, even laughing a bit to cover it. “I’m not sure anyone thinks that about you. Most stubborn person in the US, or so they say.” 

“Nah. I just don’t back down on things that are important.” He paused, stuffing half a cookie into his mouth, shrugging and thinking. “I know Fitz and Gemma would love to get him up here too, but I don’t think he’d go for that. We’re lucky he works with the Shield agents out there.” 

“Fitz has gone to him, at least once. I saw notes where they fitted him with a sleeve, kinda like Natasha’s face scrambler, to help him hide the arm. Before you feel like you’re out of the loop, he just got back yesterday and you’ve been in the field.” Rebecca smiles softly, winking at him.

“That transparent now, huh?” He paused, chewing on his lip, then cocked his head at her. This was a job that needed reinforcements. “I may know someone who can help out with that. The going to Seattle and trip home thing. Mind if I make a couple calls?” 

“This is why they called you the best friend all through the century, you know.” Rebecca smiled, but nodded. “Yeah. I have a feeling I’m gonna be the minor part of whatever you’re cooking up, but that’s okay, as long as he comes home for a visit.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

“OK, fess up, something else has gone off, hasn’t it?” 

James ducked behind the open fridge door to hide his heating face before peering over the door at Eliot. “You snuck up on me. Again.” He glared down at Malaya who hadn’t made a peep. Or maybe she had and he hadn’t heard it. 

“I called your name twice,” Eliot replied. “You were on another plane or something.” 

It was 2 am, hours after their strategy meeting and dinner. Hours after James had slipped away for some privacy. He had his own kitchen but nothing in there had looked appetizing, so he was trying the one in HQ’s kitchen. He’d tried to eat at dinner, he had, but even Eliot’s chili had tasted awful. 

“Yeah,” James finally admitted with a sigh, grabbing a bottle of water before letting the door swing shut. “Nothing tastes right anymore.” He dipped down to pick up Malaya, cuddling the cat to his chest. Six months old and she already stretched from shoulder to shoulder if she wanted.

Eliot’s face went soft, and his shoulders slumped. “Why didn’t you say something?” 

James closed his eyes and shook his head. “Because you would do that. It’s not your fault.” 

“No, but it’s a challenge and you know I can’t resist those,” Eliot countered, steering him to the breakfast bar. “Okay, don’t stop. You’ve been getting spooked about food ever since we got to Seattle. Even Parker’s noticed.”

James flushed again, dropping his head once more into Malaya’s side. “I’m sorry. I just… there was just so much going on then.” 

“Yeah. We know. You came through pretty good though, remember that.” Eliot wasn’t looking at him. Instead he was rummaging around, pulling out different ingredients. “I was surprised you managed to get through the whole story night without twitching out of your skin.”

“It was close. Sam made it the worst, I think.” James flushed again, stepping away to sit at the breakfast bar with Malaya, letting her sit on it. “I can’t believe he’s so easy about everything.” 

“Well, I’d say he’s hung around Steve Rogers for too long. Maybe he appreciates someone who doesn’t go running headlong into trouble ever five seconds.” Eliot was smiling, hands not stopping.

“Maybe. Why are you up? And not over with Parker and Hardison?” 

“Alec’s allergies are acting up and he sleeps better alone. Figured I’d come over here and crash on the couch. And my arm was twitching again.” Eliot was actually sheepish about that last part.

James let Malaya loose on the counter and held out his hand, smiling. “May I?” He didn’t offer very often, but Eliot had become the one person he could trust when it came to touching. Even more than Parker. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

Eliot looked at him for a long moment, then rolled his eyes and held out his left arm across the breakfast bar. “Only because it feels fucking good.” 

James laughed, working up the inside of Eliot’s arm with both thumbs, digging into the meat deep enough to massage close to the bone. “It always drove me batty, to heal outside the tank. Somehow, even though I was frozen, bones knit up anyways. And I didn’t feel it.” 

“So you have no idea how long this should last then?” Eliot’s hand was tensing against his elbow, but James didn’t stop, not until something let loose inside and Eliot’s whole arm went limp. “Oh, that’s better.”

“Nope. You’ve had other broken bones though, yeah? Concussions and stuff?” He sat back down, letting Eliot do his thing again.

“Yeah, but this one just wants to linger around.” He made a face, then poked James in his right shoulder. “What about you, why are you not eating everything in the building anymore?” 

James laughed, flushing as he remembered those first few weeks with the team. “I dunno. Maybe my metabolism finally caught up?” He shrugged, then remembered what the Shield shrink had told him. “I know that things turn off and on sometimes and I don’t know why. I just thought this was one of those things.” 

“Huh. Yeah, I can see that.” Eliot was folding bits of flour into dough, then using a strange crank press to thin it out. “What else has done that?” 

“Uhm. Sounds, touch, talking? Sometimes smells.” James paused. He hadn’t stop to put things in a list like that before. His voice sounded distant to himself as he finally realized the commonality. “Things Hydra made me repress and ignore.” He’d have to save this one for the next time he saw Andrew Garner. The shrink was so easy to surprise.

“Ah. So maybe the food thing is connected. I know you kinda hate eating in front of people now.” James blushed again and dropped his head down to the counter with a groan. “Hey, no, it’s okay. Really.” He felt Eliot ruffle his hair like he was little Stevie. “I get it, I do. It’s part of becoming more self-aware of who you are, maybe.” 

James looked up at Eliot, peering over his forearm. Now he was cutting the flat dough into circles and filling it with blue cheese and feta, then bits of leftover bacon. He took a guess, ignoring the topic at hand. “Tortellini?” 

“Very good! And strong cheese, something with a powerful taste. Might start doing more German dishes, if this works.” He held out a chunk of the feta, and James found himself taking it to nibble on. It did have a strong taste, just as strong as it’s smell. Malaya liked it too.

“Okay. Never really had much German food.” 

“You’ve tried Indian food here, right? I like the Punjabi flavors. We can try that too.” Eliot started to ramble about different dishes, letting James just relax and watch. 

Thirty minutes later, there was a bowl of stuffed tortellini shells swimming a strong seafood broth, and a rare bottle of one of Eliot’s heavy red wines in front of him. And he could taste them.

If these sort of things could switch off, then maybe they might switch back on again? He hoped so. And maybe other things. Memories in the back of his head kept reminding him there was so much more his body once did. He wanted to do those again.

Especially with Steve. 

Maybe with Clint.

As soon as that thought went through his head, his cheeks flooded with warmth and he had to duck his head down over his bowl. Eliot didn’t say anything, but James knew there was no way he’d missed that.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

“It’s actually kind of cute,” Eliot grumbled, testing the hinge on the door before stepping back. The door swung easily before clicking into place. 

“You know, a year ago, my idea of cute was my niece running around with an Iron Man mask,” Sam said, dipping his brush back into the tray of paint. “Now, super soldiers from the ‘40’s acting like…” 

“Teenagers. With a crush,” Eliot filled in for him, shaking his head.

“Man, I don’t remember being that skittish around a girl, ever.” Sam shook his head before continuing his job on the wall. 

“That’s crap and never let him get away with it,” DA said from behind him. “Riley brought him home after basic and he tripped over himself about Angie, Riley’s other cousin.” The older man rolled up behind them, leaning over to replace empty water bottles with fresh. 

“DA! C’mon, let a man have some dignity! And face it, Angie was special!” Sam spluttered, shaking the dripping paint brush at him. Eliot just laughed, enjoying this. 

“Angie IS special, and saw right through your ass, thank god. Now get back to work and quit wasting my time!” DA flicked water at Sam, laughing as he headed into the next room to check on the guys working there. 

Eliot watched him go, smiling soft. When they’d first met, DA had been distrustful and wary. Couldn’t blame him, they were thieves and con men, after all. But now he was a lot more relaxed. It soothed a part of him he hadn’t realized ached like that. 

Sam shifted a bit, making him blink out of his reverie to get back to work next to him. “While we have a moment, I do wanna run something past you,” Sam said, his voice going soft and serious.

“What do they want now?” Eliot asked, rolling his right shoulder to loosen up a cramp.

“They wanna send out a few more agents. I’m sure Hardison’s picked it up, but there’s been more chatter lately about Seattle. They want to make sure you have enough backup.” Sam’s look was serious, and he was chewing on the inside of his lip. “There’s also a standing invite to go east anytime James is ready to.” 

“He knows. Well… both of them know, I mean. I don’t think James will be ready for a while though.” Eliot paused, pretending to straighten out the bristles on a brush. “If push comes to shove, we can scatter, pick up our operation elsewhere. And we will, if we need to.” 

“You three, you’ve done a lot for him already. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad. It’s just, unexpected I guess,” Sam said, looking at him with his head cocked.

“He’s family now. That’s really all you need to know about what we’ll do for him.” Eliot smiled, his #3 hitter promise of mayhem smile. Sam blinked, then nodded. “When do these agents arrive?” 

“Hell if I know. They might already be here.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Ha, take that, you Uber-mensch,” Alice muttered to herself as she maneuvered her Lucky Star cab right up to the curb for arrivals. This was one place her new boss Kaleb could keep up with business, people who grabbed the first car they saw. If she could cut off the competition, this time literally with her swerve to the curb, it was just icing to the cake. Besides, this was the first time that Parker had agreed to let her go out as part of a job. She had to impress them.

Three women emerged from the departure’s door, and Alice hopped out to open up her trunk for their luggage. “Fastest cleanest cab in the city, ladies! Wherever you need to go!” 

“Thanks,” said the tallest, a blond who practically towered over her, shoving her rolling bag in first. The second was a shorter red-head, and the third was a wide eyed brunette. 

“No problem. First time in Seattle?” _Keep up the chatter_ , Alec had advised when they coached her on the position. 

She’d been paying attention to their lessons about body language too. The brunette was stiff as a board, but the other two were relaxed and moved like fighters or dancers. 

“It’s been a while,” the redhead said. “But if you want to point out the sights, that’d be awesome.” She pushed the brunette into the middle of the back seat so they could bracket her. 

Alice slammed the trunk shut and grinned. “With pleasure, and with only half the tour guide chatter.” 

As she pulled back out into traffic, she glanced back at her passengers. They were having a small conversation between themselves, and she thought it’d be rude to interrupt.

“I’m not so sure about this, Nat,” the brunette said softly. She hadn’t calmed down. 

“Don’t worry, Rebecca, between Sharon and me, we’ll make sure everything goes nice and easy.” The redhead named Nat looked up at the mirror, then slid her eyes out to the view. Not her business, Alice thought, and just headed out onto the freeway. After a minute of silence, she finally asked, “Where to?” 

The blond, the one she called Sharon, leaned forward, holding out a card for her to take. “Any idea where Clint Barton is today?” The redhead was watching her again through the mirror, smirking.

The card was solid black, with the Shield logo on it. On the dash, her phone went blank. _Aw hell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, forgot to add my references. The Fiddle Game was Leverage S3E6, the Studio Job. Eliot sings in that one. ;) And there were several times that the crew brought in additional hands. Like Tara Reed in the last 6 episodes of season 2, or like the Last Dam Job, the finale of season 4. Sometimes the client(s) themselves, like in the Boiler Room Job, s4e8. I'm just sayin, they use the resources at hand. I LOVED Sophie's acting troupe in season 5.


	2. Crossing the Threads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I has serious question for you the reader at the end. Enjoy, in the meantime.

Once, back during the summer, Sophie and Nate had taken him out on their yacht, out onto open waters to whale watch. Since then, James had found times to slip both the team and his Shield tails to go back down to the water. Intellectually, he knew that Hydra had submarines and ships or could commandeer them. It still didn’t counter the feel of being on the open water in a single seat kayak, blissfully alone and away from everything. 

Now, like every time since then, the open water soothed his nerves and made his mind quiet. He didn’t even mind the drip down his neck when he flipped his oar around to change directions, or the seeping cold into his legs from being still while his upper body did all the work. 

James had thought about buying a kayak and storing it somewhere unknown, but he didn’t think he could evade the Shield tails enough that they’d never find it and put some sort of tracker on it. They were good, very good. And they were aware that he only tolerated them. So he rented kayaks from different companies every time he decided he needed to go out. And it was a need. Especially after some of the sessions with Dr. Garner. 

This morning, that session had bordered too close to his early days in Russia. There were still huge gaps in his memory around that time. Right now his nerves sang with echos of those memories, causing his accent and speech to slide all over his dozen languages. The best remedy he had was to do something as completely unrelated to his past as he could. 

Which is why he found himself pushing off a beach in the northern side of the bay, well away from the commercial shipping zones. It was cold, but still a wet, clammy kind of cold, heavy with sea salt and iodine. It felt good, using his upper body to paddle away from the shore, riding the crest of the waves as he turned out towards the open water. The channel was open, but he chose to stick to the eastern shoreline as he made his way north. His only company were sea lions fishing in the same waters. Occasionally one would poke its snout above the water to look at him. He left them alone, and they got bored. 

It took the better part of an hour, but when his right shoulder started to scream, he felt more at ease in his head too. He trailed the paddle in the water like he’d learned to, using it as a rudder to keep himself in the current. 

With the static gone, his thoughts jumped immediately to what Sam had told Eliot. New agents. That part he didn’t like. Steve had gone against Maria’s wishes and kept him supplied with dossiers on everyone currently in Seattle, and James appreciated that. He was less likely to react if he knew who they were. 

Okay so he was less likely to react if he knew two certain people weren’t part of the deployment. And he already knew Steve wasn’t. Steve was safely back in New York, working on some project of his own. The redhead…

Voices chanting in unison intruded on his thoughts. He looked around to see he was near the mouth of a river. He back paddled a bit to watch a large wooden canoe emerge from the river onto the bay, rowed by a group of men. A woman sat in the back, steering from the rudder. James had no clue if this was the same group of people that Eliot had talked about or not, but he could see why the project would mean so much. He felt like an intruder as the group paused to chant something in a language he didn’t recognize. He bowed his head and back paddled more as they swung around to go back up the river. If there was such a thing as sacred ground, then there could be sacred waters too. And he’d just blundered into them. 

It was hours later before he got back to the rental place to turn in the kayak. All he wanted was a couple hamburgers from the joint nearby and a mountain of french fries and coleslaw to replace the calories he’d just burned. And he’d eat it too, whether his taste buds worked or not. 

He changed his mind when he saw Clint Barton sitting on the curb next to where he’d parked his bike, the archer’s hands stuffed in the pockets of his pea coat. James couldn’t help it, his feet slowed down as he walked closer. _It’s okay_ , he told himself. _He’s made himself obvious which means he doesn’t want to cause trouble._ James still wanted to abandon the bike and run. All the peace he’d felt on the water was melting away. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Clint had called dibs on Thursday morning surveillance. Mostly because he knew it was therapy day for Barnes... er... Grant. Clint had always been habitually horrible with filling in surveillance logs, so if he lost James now and then, it wouldn’t stand out. It’s not like he didn’t always pick him back up somewhere in the harbor. A chance glimpse of seeing him on the water in a kayak had explained the disappearances and honestly, he deserved some time to himself, right? So he listened to the chatter on the water as well as other chatter and that counted as surveillance in his book.

Except he disappeared on the morning that Natasha finally came to Seattle and that dropped right on his head. Unfair. 

James had come to a stop on the other side of the bike, staring and fidgeting with his keys. So no, this wasn’t a good day for him. 

That was the thing. He actually _liked_ James. He didn’t want to be the one who did this to him. Clint raised a hand, smiling as gentle as he knew how to. “Sorry, I hate having to do this, but they didn’t give me much choice. They want you down at your HQ.” 

Well that was the right thing to say. Take him to his safe place with his friends. “Okay,” he replied slowly, watching Barton with that look Clint still hadn’t quite figured out yet. “This gonna take long?”

“I have no clue. I know you have that thing tonight,” and he grinned when James rolled his eyes. It relaxed them both though. “They just want to talk, I swear.” 

James took a deep breath, then nodded and took two steps necessary to get onto his bike. “Right. You riding with me or taking your super secret way?” 

“Well, if you’re offering!” Clint found himself flying off the curb to land on the back of the bike. “Although I’m usually not the one on back.” He grabbed at the frame behind him, glad this was a bigger Harley than his old Suzuki still moldering in a garage in Bed-Stuy. James was stiff at first, but slowly relaxed as nothing happened. Yeah, Clint was going to file that away with all the weird looks. Anyone else, he’d take them out drinking or shooting. 

With James, one wouldn’t work and the other had complications too long for his brain to comprehend. Maybe Nat would have some better idea. 

~ ~ ~ ~

The first sign of bad things was Clint showing up to herd him all the way home. The second sign was Alice’s cab out front of a closed restaurant. They only closed for special reasons, and James didn’t like how this was shaping up. He couldn’t even enjoy the way Clint’s thighs pressed to his during turns. But the surprising thing really, was that it didn’t set him off. 

James sat on the bike for a minute after Clint climbed off, staring at the door of the restaurant. Then he remembered to dig out his ear bud and slip it in. He counted seven voices, two were women he didn’t know, three were the team, one was Alice, and the seventh…

He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked up sheepishly at Clint. The archer was standing several feet away, waiting patiently. There was something in his eyes, some part that made him think that maybe Clint understood why he didn’t want to go through that door. The way he was balanced on his toes though, read to James that he wouldn’t shake Clint off his tail again. Not easily anyways. 

He opted for the back door at least. The kitchen was open, and he could take a moment to grab a drink. He used that as a cover to whisper, “Eliot, I’m downstairs. What’s up there?”

“Three women who may or may not be Shield and a very pissed off Alice. Hardison’s got them silenced electronically while they’re here, and they swear all they want to do is talk.” 

“Barton’s down here with me.” James glanced over at Clint, giving him a sheepish smile. “He knew they were here.” 

“We’ve got you, James,” Parker said softly to him, then her voice rose as she took control. “Okay, so now he knows you’re here. There are ground rules or you don’t get to talk, understood?” 

He smiled to himself, sipping at his water. Then he wondered if those ground rules applied to him. 

“What rules?” the seventh voice asked. 

“No fancy words, no sudden moves, everything in English, and no demands. No commands. When James says he’s done, that’s it. This isn’t a good day for him.” 

One of the voices he didn’t recognize answered Parker first. “Oh, I’m well aware of what bad days are like.” She had a deep New York accent, no denying where she was from. He heard a scuffle of heels against the wood floors, the creak of a chair moving under their weight.

“We’re okay with those for today. No commands, ever. I promise,” said the seventh person. Her English was perfect, almost too perfect.

The last voice was the lightest. “Hey, I’m just here to relay a request and expedite it happening, if he agrees.” 

James glanced back over at Clint. He was leaning against a counter, his face not reacting to anything upstairs. James wondered if he also had an ear bud, but when he looked closer, he saw a different type of device around the archer’s ear. It looked a lot like what some of Sam’s vets who’d lost hearing wore. A new puzzle for him to think on, since nothing Steve’s dossier on the guy had mentioned hearing loss. 

He put his glass in the dishwasher, waving at Clint to follow him as he shuffled up the back stairs. The conversation was still going, dancing around the real reason they were there. 

James thought he knew. They wanted to take him in. That was always their end goal, it’s just this time they dressed it up as a request. Maybe he should go over contingency plans with Parker again. 

Parker was amazing, after all. When he opened the door into the work room, she had managed to put the strangers’ backs to the door. So he could take a second to see who was there first. 

One was a blond woman, taller than the other two, who sat easily in her chair, not worried about anything, or with the ability to hide things that well. She looked vaguely familiar, with an overlay of Nick Fury tinting the memory as if she might be wound up in the DC thing. 

The second woman, he knew. He’d fought her. The red hair was a little longer and curlier now, but he knew her. Maybe in more ways than one, he thought. She was the seventh voice and the one he had hoped he’d never meet again.

He started to back up to the door, prepared to push through Clint if he had to, when the third woman turned around to look. The world tilted a little and his breath jumped along with his pulse. Time shifted around him, making his grasp of reality a little less solid. It was impossible, she shouldn’t be here, not like this. “Gracie?” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Rebecca realized that Parker had looked up, then she turned to the door behind them. It was both James and Natasha’s friend Barton there, and it looked like James was about to back out the door again when he saw her. The streaks of purple dye in his hair made the whole thing seem even more surreal. Something shifted in his face, and there were no masks other than confused amazement. “Gracie?” 

Steve had always told her how much she looked like her great aunt Grace, which had only reinforced her family saying that her entire life. So when she shows up unannounced like this, yeah, she can see why he might think that. 

She stood up, turning to walk a couple steps towards him, fidgeting. What the hell do you say? She’d asked herself that several dozen times on the flight out. What came out was “Hi.” 

Before she could even say her name, James had crossed the distance to pick her up in a hard hug. She clung to him as her feet dangled in the air. “Gracie, you’re here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t come home, I’m sorry!”

Dealing with Steve was simple compared to this. So she dredged up what she thought her grandmother or great aunt would have said to him. “Shh it’s okay. I know you couldn’t.” She kept murmuring that, even as she rubbed his back. 

First impression, that metal arm was painful. Second, he was huge, so much bigger than she had expected. Not as big as Steve was now, but definitely taller and more muscled than the Bucky of 1945 had been in all the pictures they had. 

The scary woman, Parker, she was there too. “C’mon James, breath for me, okay? Just breath. We’re here.” She was rubbing on his right arm, the flesh one, and Rebecca realized she was trying to help him center himself back in this century. It seemed to be working. Slowly his grip eased, then her feet were touching the ground again. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” she murmured. “Just take a moment.” She bit her lip, then when he pulled back enough to look at her again, she smiled. “I wish I were Grace, for you. But I’m Rebecca, I’m your great niece.”

James’ face was a wreck. His eyes were wide open and he was obviously in the grip of a transition of some sort between memories. She’d seen that look on Tolya whenever he made one of his rare breakthroughs. “You work with Steve. With Vassiliev. You were in New York, with Steve.” 

“That’s right. I met him there, not long after they woke him up out of the ice. We adopted him all over again, the whole family,” she said, hoping Steve had told him enough about that to make sense. Working with Tolya gave her an idea of how large the memory gaps might be. Of how traumatic what was left might be. “You want to sit down? I’m not going anywhere.” 

Behind them, she heard the other fighter, Spencer, murmur softly to Sharon and Natasha. “I think maybe you two should go. Come back later, when he’s adjusted to the shock.” 

Rebecca looked back at her two companions. Nat had been wound up about something this whole trip, even if she had played it off. She was watching James, eyes calculating even though the rest of her face was carefully blank.

“No,” James said, even though his hand was still tight on hers and she could feel him shaking. “No, let’s… I want to take a minute.” He turned away from the rest of them, his hand hard on hers as he pulled her along down a dark hall to a locked door. She had to shuffle her feet fast to keep up with him. Behind the door, she could hear a loud meow. His cat, which meant his apartment. 

“Please, I just need to take a minute. With you,” he murmured, before pulling her inside. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Inside his apartment, James finally let Rebecca’s hand go. Rebecca, not Gracie, he reminded himself. He needed to see the difference. Or it wouldn’t be real. Malaya was mrowling loudly and pacing, so he scooped her up to hold against his chest as he went straight to the family album he’d put together. He was aware that Rebecca followed him in, but slower as she looked around. One of his posters must have caught her eye. “Cary Grant. He was grandmother’s favorite too.”

He found the picture he wanted, staring at the photo of the five kids, Rebecca, Grace, Steve, Winnie, and himself. He tugged it out with one shaking hand before turning to look at her, holding the photo up as well, to the side of her face so he could compare. 

Rebecca stopped and smiled, fingers latching together in front of her. She had the same thick curly hair that all three girls did, but her nose was long and thin, just like Grace’s had been. Her chin was all Rebecca though. “Rebecca,” he murmured, taking a deep breath. “Your grandmother was Rebecca.” 

“Yup. My father is her son, James Nathan, but he mostly goes by Nathan,” she replied. She bit her bottom lip again, just like he used to do, then she dug into her purse. “I brought pictures of the whole family, for you to look at when you want to.” She held out a small photo album, stepping closer again.

He took the album greedily, turning to go to the table before remembering he had manners once. James turned, head ducked a bit as he put both cat and album onto the table, smiling back at her shyly. His stomach was dancing merry hell around the water he’d drunk downstairs. “Are you thirsty? Or you want something to eat? I mean, I’ve only got a few things in here, but...” 

“Water would be good. Or coffee if you’ve got that?” she said nervously, stepping closer to him. 

Coffee he could do. “Yeah, uh, just uh… give me a moment.” He slipped into the kitchen, pushing the plate of last night’s attempt of something edible out of the way so he could pull out clean coffee mugs. 

“What’s your cat’s name?” Rebecca asked, letting Malaya sniff her fingertips.

“She’s Malaya. I found her as a kitten,” he said, feeling rusty at conversational skills. 

“She’s beautiful, aren’t you Malaya?” When James turned to look, the cat was letting Rebecca scratch behind her ears. “And you’re wearing a Captain America harness. That’s adorable!” 

“Thanks. Hardison found it for her.” The coffee was brewing now, so he had to turn and face her again. She was still smiling, but more relaxed now. 

“You’ve got a lot of Captain America stuff around,” she said, turning to look at the apartment. “That’s good. Steve was afraid that any of it would be hard for you.” 

“Dr. Garner says it’s immersion therapy,” he blurted, surprised at himself and flushing a bit. “I just like how some of it looks, really.” 

Rebecca smiled back at him, nodding. “Dr. Garner’s pretty smart about stuff like this. He flies out to see Tolya too. Sorry, I forgot. You called him Vassiliev.” 

Behind him, the coffee dinged and he busied himself with pouring the two mugs. He remembered Garner telling him about going to New York, but that had been abstract. Now it was real. “You call him Tolya? He answers to that?” 

“Yeah, sometimes. He’s very disorganized, mentally.” She murmured a soft thanks when he handed her the cup, sipping carefully. “It amazes me that you managed that stage by yourself, finding your friends to help you through.” 

Had he managed that? “It’s all still fuzzy.” James pushed away the memories, grabbing the photo album to open it up finally. When he sat down, Malaya hopped into his lap, purring to anchor him to the here and now. “The whole family is in here?” he asked to distract her.

“Yup. We started off with Winnie and her family, since she was the oldest.” Rebecca let him focus on the book, narrating the whole time. He had more family than he knew. 

“And finally Grandma,” she said, turning to the last page. One of the oldest people he’d seen sat up straight for the photo, her white hair cut and styled in something simple but beautiful, smiling at the camera with his Rebecca’s eyes. “She turns 90 next month, and she wants you to come visit.” Rebecca lets out a soft laugh then. “If Aunt Georgie would have let her, she would have flown out here to see you, but she’s got a pacemaker and a bum heart that keep her grounded. That’s why I’m here, so I can ask you to come home, even if just for a visit.” 

James touched the photo with a shaky hand. His left hand, hidden by the scrambler sleeve and suddenly he’s glad he has it on. “I can’t fly either.”

“Well, commercial you can’t, but we’ve got a Shield jet just for us and you. Sharon, the tall blond out there?” Something in Rebecca’s voice shifts and softens. “She’s Peggy Carter’s great niece. Peggy wants you to come visit too.” 

He had that memory, the person who belonged to that name. Bright red lipstick, perfectly fitted red dress, and the most intense brown eyes he’d ever seen. “Peggy too? She’s not… she’s not mad at me?” 

“James, no one’s mad at you, I promise.” Her hand is on his right hand, warm and gentle as she squeezes, fingers fitting into his palm easily. “It might’ve been hard for us to understand, but we know it’s not your fault, anything that happened. That was all Hydra, we know.” 

“But I let Steve destroy her Shield, everything she built!” he heard himself say. The girl from Shield, Jemma, had loaned him a book on Peggy. The photo album sat on top if it, since he’d just finished reading it. It had been surreal, reading about his attempt on her life. And her reaction after he’d killed her friend Howard. He didn’t say that part out loud.

“You of all people should know, keeping Steve from doing something he thinks is right is damn near impossible,” Rebecca retorted, squeezing his hand again. “Peggy’s mostly been mad at herself, for not seeing it happen. That is, when she’s lucid enough to remember. Sharon thinks that if she has a chance to see you, it’ll put her at ease again.” 

“When she’s lucid,” he repeated, then looked at Rebecca. “Do you think she’d even recognize me?” 

Rebecca smiled and reached to push his hair back a bit. Part of his brain noted he didn’t flinch away. Since he met her not ten minutes ago, he had been at ease with her touching him. “Well, I don’t know about the purple hair, but the rest of you? Yeah, anyone who knows you will recognize you.” 

Recognize him. Wait, the third woman, the one he knew. “The other woman, the red head. Why is she here?” 

“Natasha? She’s here to manage your protection detail.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Clint had moved over to sit next to Natasha when Barnes had drug Barnes off out of sight. That had been unexpected, but she understood. Maybe. The Soldier had recognized her. The question was, which her? A frightening one, from the way he’d almost backed right out of the room. Steve had been right about the levels of fear in him. But Hill had insisted and…

And Natasha hadn’t argued. She had her own reasons for being here. 

Parker and Spencer had come to sit at the table across them after sending the girl Alice back to work with reassurances. Sharon was fidgeting in the silence. Natasha sighed and sat up straighter. “It’s a lot for him to process, and I’m thinking Rebecca will probably broach the subject with him in there. We’re here to invite him to go to the east coast. His sister is demanding a visit and,” she paused, looking at Sharon.

“I’m here to facilitate a meeting with Peggy Carter too. We have a quinjet at our disposal to handle the flight situation. Natasha’s here to manage security for all of us. The three of you are invited as well.” 

“But not Steve Rogers,” Parker stated, catching the omission quickly. 

Natasha smiled serenely at that, shaking her head. “No. He’s agreed to ah, keep his distance.” 

“That sucks,” Spencer murmured under his breath. She agreed with him, but Steve had his own reasons too.

“It does, but he wants to give Barnes his space,” Natasha started, leaning forward as she pulled a planner out of her back pocket. 

“Grant. His name is James Grant,” Parker corrected her, eyes sharp on the slip.

All three were stone faced over that. More of a persona than an alias then, maybe more than just a name for this century. “My apologies, Mr. Grant then. There’s also a standing offer to come to Avengers Academy to see Vassiliev if he wishes. I understand that Fitz was able to do some of the arm maintenance the last time he was out here.” 

Something passed between the three of them, because they were sitting up straighter, and the black man Hardison was playing with a keyboard in the back. It was like trying to get a read on Fury when she’d first turned herself over to Shield. Impossible. Now in 3D.

“We’ll see,” Parker finally ventured. “We’re in the middle of a project right now. So there won’t be any rush. Why don’t the three of you explore Seattle, catch up with your friends?” 

Clint tapped her thigh, comforting in abbreviated code. His body language was casual, and she knew he thought everything was OK. Or they could pull stakes and disappear like smoke. 

“We’ll wait for Rebecca. She seems to have an instant relationship with him,” Sharon said dryly. Her body language was relaxed and easy, and Natasha set herself to emulate that. 

A door creaked down the hall, all six of them sitting up at that and trying not to stare in that direction. If she wasn’t so wound up herself, Natasha would find that hilarious. As it was, only Rebecca came down the hall. Orange hairs reflected off her black sweater and pants. She had to sternly tell herself not to wrinkle up her nose or give in to a sneeze. It’s not like they were even in range, Romanoff. 

A heavy step echoed behind Rebecca. James looked over his great niece’s shoulder, glancing around first before narrowing in on her. 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Part of his pride screamed at him for hiding behind Rebecca. But the practical side admitted that he’d spent nearly two years avoiding the woman across the room. Her sharp eyes were on him immediately, but Eliot and Parker were there, and between them. 

Rebecca kept going and joined her travel companions, but he stood at the border between hall and work room. Malaya pressed to his cheek, one paw on light on his ear. Garner had suggested he bring her to their sessions, but James didn’t like chancing her on the roads like that. 

No one moved, but the tension was deepening. He’d heard the whole conversation over his ear bud, but Parker seemed to wait for him to make the call. 

The red head cocked her head at him, eying the cat then looking back up to his eyes. There seemed to be some sort of question in her eyes. Even more, it triggered the ghost of a memory. Ancient. Buried deep. Every part of the memory seemed to be hazed in red. Not just the color, but the name. And there was also a code.

He let the memory guide him. Not him, just his right hand, his good hand. It dropped to his thigh, his first two fingers half extended before he dusted at his jeans. 

Natasha Romanoff’s eyes went a fraction wider. She knew that signal. No, not Romanoff, not that fearless warrior comfortable in her own skin. He saw a twelve year old, jaw set, determined to master everything.

Little Natusik was there. And there was no fear of her at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi. I hate this. oh no, not the fic! My wrist. Between my new job and going on 4k word writing spurts, my carpal tunnel has started cursing the day I came up with this fic idea. I don't even get to play games anymore or knit! *whine* 
> 
> So I have a question for you guys. Would you prefer shorter updates on a predictable schedule, ie my usual Friday nights? Or longer updates at unpredictable times? I'm thinking of going shorter. I just hate dragging it out on you guys.
> 
> Edit to add: You guys are awesome. Okay, so after this chapter, shorter chapters it is. My carpal tunnel issues are a long term thing, so I've been dealing with it the best I can. It's also just.... I've never had this many readers following me before and I hate to disappoint anyone! I swear to you now though, this fic WILL BE FINISHED. No abandonment happening here! It's just gonna take longer than I thought.
> 
> Edit #2: My friends be awesome and I be not worthy. They're podficcing this thing! Starting from the beginning: [ The Job Between Here and There Podfic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7643827/chapters/17402257)


	3. Schmaltzing

Chapter 3

Janda’s corporate office was in northern Seattle, in a quiet district. Except tonight wasn’t very quiet. Cars came and went from in front of the building, complete with valet service. Janda was hosting an event for several of the council members that had been backing him with city legislation. One in particular a very tall woman named Ruby Martin seemed to spend an awful lot of time around Rydr’s offices. Tonight, she schmoozed the crowd in a dress that lived up to her name. James was very glad he was up on the roof of the parking garage across the street, anchoring the line for Parker’s getaway. It was also an excellent surveillance spot to watch people come and go. 

The plan was originally for him to be inside as DA’s escort playing his part in the con, but the day’s events had cracked too many things in his head to let him face strangers and play a part. Or as Hardison had said, scrambled his chill like eggs. Apt, James thought. So he sat, with binoculars next to Lucille, the top level of the garage blocked off by construction signs, and one of Fitz’s rifles with tranquilizing rounds. Just in case. 

“Oh look, they have those little puff things you love!” Parker said. She and Hardison were already in the crowd, playing the parts of interested constituents until Parker could slip away and do her thing. They both wore cameras, to James’ relief. He was watching them on the little computer Hardison had set up for him. It was split into four feeds, those two already inside and the other two showing the same car interior as Eliot and DA waited out their arrival. 

“Save me some?” James managed to ask, hoping his tone was actually as light as he tried to make it. 

“Or we’ll get Eliot to make you some if we don’t,” Hardison replied. His camera showed one calm hand stuffed with almost a dozen of the puffs. 

“Only if you don’t eat them all first,” Eliot growled back in response.

“You guys are adorable,” a new voice said. Barton was on his own rooftop nearby, overseeing his team’s op at the same event. That wrinkle had come out this afternoon, yet another detail that had scrambled James’ eggs. They had their own intelligence gathering op at this party. It had been kinda funny, watching the two sides face off over whose op took precedence.

“Hardison, you said our comms were locked!” Parker squeaked at him. 

“They are, he’s on our system, not theirs,” Hardison replied. “For coordination, so we don’t trip over each other.”

“Speaking of tripping, Carter and Wilson just pulled up,” James muttered. This op was already getting too noisy. He had to admit, they made a nice looking couple though, despite Sam’s fidgeting with his suit jacket as they walked in. 

The next car to arrive was theirs. Eliot was extremely deferential to DA in his brand new suit and chair, making sure there was no doubt that he was “Andrew Gibson’s” son. They were playing a pair of Texas oilmen and the face of the con. Eliot’s good old boy routine was frightening, a little. Mostly the smile and the laugh but James wasn’t going to say that. 

“I think that’s everyone that’s going to be in view, yeah?” Clint asked. “All ours are in there.” 

“Da,” James answered succinctly. His brain wanted to be Russian again, so he was letting just a touch seep out, to see if that would ease the pressure. Probably wouldn’t work, not until Natusik had her say at some point. She’d acknowledged the signal his memory had guided him into, but didn’t respond then. He’d spent what calm moments he had that afternoon dredging up what memories he could access of the Red Room. He realized that seeing her had turned off the fear of those times, somehow. 

Would turning off his fear of Steve be that simple?

_Finish the mission._ He sighed at the imperative. No, he wasn’t that lucky.

“Well this is a mighty fine shingding you got going here!” Eliot bellowed at Max Janda. His camera showed the man holding a glass of champagne in one hand, relaxed as he reached out to shake their hands with the other hand. “Charlie Gibson, this here’s my father Andrew Gibson.” 

“Not often I get to come out and enjoy things like this, thank you,” DA said gravely, countering the boisterousness of his ‘son.’ “And I’m glad I did, that is a gorgeous dugout you’ve got.” DA had turned away and rolled over to inspect the centerpiece of the hall, the glass enclosed dugout canoe. It was tilted at a slight angle, a dark blue cloth beneath it to symbolize the water it once traveled. 

“Thank you,” Janda replied. It took James a moment to recognize the tone as smug. “I was really lucky to be able to acquire it. I have a preservationist on call to make sure it’s kept in perfect condition.”

“It looks a peach! Say,” Eliot shifted his entire body, crossing arms and rubbing at his jaw before asking, “you wouldn’t be interested in selling it, would you?” Eliot asked, in his awful, jovial Texan way.

“Oh, no. No I’m sorry. She belongs here in Seattle,” Janda started edging away. Just as they had scripted it.

If James was honest with himself, his friends were scarier than Hydra sometimes, the way they knew things would go and how to direct people to do what they wanted with just words. And they all said Sophie was even better.

“That’s actually not a problem,” DA replied. “You see, we have a business proposition for you.” Janda paused, turning slightly towards the camera.

“We’ve been looking for select investors for a new kind of hedge fund, and this gorgeous darlin’ would be a star jewel in the collection,” Eliot added. 

Behind them, Parker stumbled a bit, spilling her champagne on the skirt of her gown. “Oh no! Oh honey, I’m sorry, I really need to go clean this up,” she bubbled mournfully at Hardison. 

“It’s okay, dumplings, I’ll just keep schmoozing.” The kiss they shared was affected, but all James saw on the cameras was Hardison’s lapel or Parker’s collarbone. 

“Exactly how would your hedge fund work?” Janda asked, cocking his head a little. 

“Well, we’re oilmen originally, we’ve seen firsthand what a collective can do for prices and values. And now with the whole football team from Washington stirring controversy up, there’s interest growing in Native artifacts again,” DA started. He was relaxed, sipping from his glass, alternating from watching Janda with watching the crowd around them. James wondered if he could see Sam.

“We’d like to put together a group of investors, in order to build a collection of artifacts to preserve. Venture capitalists such as yourself, who can see further than just Wall Street to build a steady financial foundation for themselves. It’s building up to become a very lucrative field, for the right people.” 

While Eliot baited the hook, Parker was wiggling through the air duct in the bathroom to head up to Janda’s office. The lovely white satin dress she’d worn had turned inside out to become a sleek climbing outfit. James couldn’t explain it at all.

Another car pulled up outside the building. A single blond woman stepped out, but James thought she looked familiar. “Trouble on the doorstep,” he murmured. 

“Yup,” Barton confirmed. James heard him speak into both comm lines, from the faint feedback he could hear. “Stephanie Malick just arrived. Morse, Hunter, you’re up.” Oh. Yeah, yeah he knew that name. A faint shudder ran up his spine, but he controlled it. 

On the street, a security guard stepped forward to meet Malick. James had just gotten that dossier earlier. Lance Hunter was an interesting guy. The Bucky who-had-been would’ve liked him, James thought. But he was a professional as he escorted Malick into the building. 

“I’m very interested in your project. Would this be something we could meet again on, say later this week?” Janda was asking Eliot and DA.

“We would love to, but hopefully soon. We’re going up to Alaska to investigate the oil shales there, see if that’s something worth getting involved in,” DA answered.

“In the meantime though, please, enjoy yourselves tonight,” Janda said. An assistant stepped forward at a wave of Janda’s hand, taking their contact information while the boss faded into the crowd. Hardison had already built a digital life for them, solid enough that even the Shield agents were impressed.

“He’s on a trajectory with Martin to meet Malick,” Hardison murmured. “I think it’s time we made our way out, yeah?” 

“Nope, you’re going to give me fifteen more minutes up here,” Parker ordered. “Go visit the shrimp bar again.” 

James laughed softly at that, relaxing a fraction. Maybe he’d get a chance to go visit Rebecca again tonight. “That’s a good sound, JG,” Hardison said. “You see everything okay up there?” 

“Da, it’s all good. Lucille is fine company.” 

“Aw James, I thought we were friends!” Barton teased.

“Two rooftops in winter does not make for friendly company,” he replied, his accent sliding defiantly into Russian. Thunder rumbled somewhere. “Especially if it rains.” Barton’s voice still made him feel like squirming for some reason, but it was starting to ease up. 

“It’s better than a blizzard!” Barton retorted.

“Or a sandstorm,” Eliot added. He and DA were making small talk as they moved through the crowd. Even to James, it looked unintentional when they bumped into Hardison. James listened to them for a moment, then froze.

Maybe it’s because he was concentrating on pressure changes from the rain, or maybe it was just some sixth sense he’d always had, but he knew someone was on the roof with him. Someone who knew to come from the side, slipping into view around the back end of Lucille. 

Natusik paused, dropping her right hand down to spread her fingers out as wide as they could go, before flexing them. He knew it meant _Hello,_ his memory dredging up a silent short hand. Then she put her fingertip to her lips. She wore all black, with her red hair braided back along her neck. Perfect for a silent op. And from her greeting, that’s what she was looking for.

James nodded, then tilted his head for her to come closer. Fifteen minutes, Parker had said. There might be a little surprise waiting for her when she made her exit. It doesn’t surprise him at all that he’s rubbing at his throat again.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

It kinda felt like old times, when they had a full crew to run jobs. Parker could concentrate on what she did best, getting into the places everyone thought was safe. Janda was a fool, like all the rest of them. State of the art safe and their own proprietary software on the computers. She cracked both of them in five minutes. 

Well okay, Hardison’s program cracked the computer while she had her moment with the safe. But he wasn’t the one here to plug in the USB drive, now was he? 

“Downloading the hard drive files now. Oh look, a set of amulets in his safe too. Definitely picked the right con for him,” she murmured as she sorted through the safe.

“What kind of amulets,” Eliot asked in his character voice, but low. 

“More Native stuff. Some arrowheads, beaded bags, a lot of turquoise, oh that’s fake, psh. Eww creepy dead looking dude in gold and,” Parker paused, rubbing at it carefully. “Hair on leather? Eww, gross.” 

“Makes sense. And that last one sounds like a scalp.” Parker mimed throwing up even as she dropped it again. Then she rubbed her hand against her thigh, trying to get rid of the feel.

“Uh, guys, we should probably let Parker work and get out of there. Janda’s heading up with Martin and Malick. And Shield is on their tail,” Hardison muttered. 

“Five minutes, you guys head out. James’ll catch me. Ooh!” She picked up a box with a silver object inside, taking a quick photo. “Never seen anything like this before. Silver, but doesn’t looked carved.” She bounced it in her hand, then shook her head. “Too light to be real silver. Can’t tell what it’s for.” She lightly tapped one of Hardison’s new bugs to the base before closing the safe back up and placing their cameras and their usual bugs. 

The one thing Hardison taught her that complimented her own skills was watching for patterns. Janda fit a big category that a lot of CEO’s they’d encountered over the years were in, the show boat. Not only did he have a human sized totem pole in his office (which she also bugged), but a large open balcony overlooking the parking garage that James had camped out on all night. 

Parker’s funky strappy purse that Hardison had designed unfolded into her zip line harness. “Okay, I’m out, I hear the elevator coming up. Taking my exit.” One check of the line, a tug to test the harness and she slipped over the rail as the elevator door opened. It was a bit of a downer, not getting to scream her glee into the cold night air as she slid down the line. 

The other end was bolted to the center post of Lucille. Parker landed quietly, turning to point her remote and click the release. At the same time, a winch on Lucille started pulling the line back in. Lights turned on in the office across the street, and Parker watched the threesome turned to the safe she’d just inventoried and bugged. “Hardison, you’re about to get intel.”

“On my way over, you and James wait for me there,” he replied. 

“Okay, no,” Parker looked up from packing her things away where she expected James to be. “Problem.” He wasn’t there. She looked inside Lucille and saw a small box with the ear buds in them. Through the window, she caught sight of him watching her. James nodded at her, holding up three fingers before turning to drop over the side of the building.

She took one breath, then ran across the roof to look down. She saw him going around the corner, following someone shorter than herself, in all black. “Okay, yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you guys seen it?? Florianna and FoolishNotions are doing a podfic reading of [The Job Between Here and There!!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7643827) They've got four chapters up so far, and I love hearing Eliot read with such a lovely Quebecois accent. Makes me so happy!
> 
> Wrist is doing better this week. Just a little but I'll take it! Shorter chapter means more time to spend watching the Olympics, if that's your thing. ;)


	4. Five Plus One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are quite a few flashbacks from Natasha's POV in this chapter. They're all block quoted and italicized. In addition, I was kind and didn't try to translate into the beautiful Russian language. Anything in [ ] will either be sign language or Russian, with the text clear about which it is.  
> And uhm.. *leaves out the box of stress balls and cookies again*

The last time Natasha remembered feeling this nervous was the day when Clint had lowered his bow and cocked his head at her, instead of taking the shot. He had her dead to rights, and frankly, she deserved the execution. He’d called a different play. 

This was not her Sasha that followed her down the alley, nor was it Steve’s Bucky. Somehow he even moved differently, even though they were running a standard silent trail to her car. 

Natasha paused right before they exited the darker shadows, turning to him. James’ eyes were wide, studying her in curiosity. Something was triggering in his memory, so she took a chance and signed to him [ There’s a private place, ten minutes from here, where we can speak. ]

His brow furrowed, so she repeated the signs again. It was the Russian standard sign language that she used with Clint, that she had learned with Sasha so long ago. Just like Tolya, she could see the lights flick on when the memory surfaced for him. 

James signed a single word, [ Why? ]

[ I have answers for you, if you want them. ] Natasha replied calmly. The twelve year old in the back of her mind demanded that she tell all the truth, and she would. But slowly. Too much truth would overwhelm.

He nodded, then ran his fingers through his hair and dropped his shoulders back, stepping out onto the lit street. Natasha followed, steering him to a rental car picked up under an alias that not even Clint knew. 

James slides into the passenger side almost nonchalantly, but she identifies the two guns and three knives in the usual places, as well as the careful look he gives her as he rubs his throat with his left hand. It’s almost shocking to see it be normal, not metal. He’s giving her a pass, she knows, because of Natusik. Natasha Romanoff doesn’t get the time of day. She does not ask anything, despite the ramblings in her head. Instead she merely starts the car and drives over to Kerry Park. 

>   
>  _This is a real car, not one of those Ladas they taught you on. Feel the power, Natusik. Let it guide you. She’ll tell you what to do._  
>    
> 

Kerry Park after dark is actually rather beautiful. The sculpture framing the skyline had always been one of her favorite views. Natasha left the car at the far end of the park so they could walk through it. The night is quiet, the park empty due to the threatening rain. Natasha can see scaffolding and preparations for a gathering. The flowers are white and peach, possibly a wedding. Bold, an outdoor wedding in winter. Almost Russian of them. 

Natasha slowed as the statue came into view. James slid off to the side to inspect in his way, but she went straight up to it and sat in the bottom level. Changing Form, it was called. She thought it rather apt. She held a hand up to show him the electronic distortion toy she had palmed from Hardison’s desk at HQ.

“You’ve been here before.” It was a statement, but there was wariness behind it.

“I have. A few times this past few months, just to,” she paused, not wanting to upset him. “Observe.” 

He grew still. A bit of the form she remembered drifted into his stance. Calculating in his head, the best way to counter. “Me. Steve sent you to find a way to take me in.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Steve didn’t even know I came out here. This is for me.” It actually hurt to admit to be selfish.

“For you.” He frowned, turning a bit, right hand flexing. “Why do I remember so many little things?” He reached up, repeating the motion she had seen so often, rubbing at his throat.

“May I ask what you remember?” she asked carefully. “You remember Natusik. You gave me the hello signal.” 

>   
>  _Never expect me to remember. Any time I am out of sight, they may make me forget. Treat me as a stranger always, until I can give you a signal that I know. If you don’t see it, then I am gone._  
>    
> 

 

“You taught me that, when you trained us as children. You were afraid that they’d wipe you and send you on a mission and I would betray us. So you taught me to wait until you gave me a signal.” 

His hair slid down into his face, obscuring it a little but she already knew he would be frowning, forehead lined as he fought with his mind. The purple streaks weren’t visible in this light. It made him seem… more familiar. 

“I don’t remember everything. That was… in the middle of it all. I remember the beginning best. The end, not so much, not until Steve started unraveling things.” Another long pause, one she remembered from the recordings. “I remember flashes. A gun. Lessons in fighting. Others…” He rubbed at his head with both hands, his shoulders dropping to clench in a little.

“They used you to train us, a safe way to teach us holds when they told you to give in.” She paused, letting that sink in for James. “You rub at your throat because you taught me best how to wrap a garrote around someone, how to squeeze in for the kill. Then they let me practice on you.” 

He shuddered, kneeling down but not quite sitting on the steps leading up to the sculpture. “How many times?” 

“They would not let us stop until all of us had succeeded. I lost count of how many times they revived you.” 

>   
>  _Feeling the large body go slack, shaking underneath her as her garrote bit into his skin. Each time he fell. Each time the line faded and healed until he gasped and sat up. Each time the Madam said “Again.”_  
>    
> 

“No, how many times… did they bring me to you, send me,” James stopped, frowning, rubbing at his head more. 

“I remember us crossing paths four times. Once, when I was seven, they brought you in for an evaluation. Again when I was twelve. That’s when we developed our language.” She paused, not wanting to say the other three.

“They sent me after you, when you went to Shield, didn’t they?” Now he was sitting on the stairs. It was too dark to see his eyes, even if his hair wasn’t draped over his face. But if she knew anything, they would be unfocused as he watched inside his mind, not the surroundings. 

“They did. I’m not sure if you even caught up with us before they recalled you.” 

“I think I did. I remember seeing you, and Barton.” James raised his chin, looking up at the sky. She could see a slight smile on his lips. “I didn’t fire. I was too far away. But I could see how gentle he was with you. Is this why I like him?” 

Natasha laughed at that. “No, it’s hard to hate Clint. He’s like… he’s like the dog he has, just happy to be there with you.” 

James laughed, shaking his head. “It is good to know him.” He rubbed at his head again, and Natasha could sympathize. She’d had a few of those memory agonies herself. “When were the other times?” 

“After I joined Shield, I didn’t hear about you, for a long time. I thought maybe they had retired you. Then there was Odessa.” Natasha wasn’t sure what to say next.

“I shot you.” The words were solid, yet she could feel the regret hanging in the air between them. 

>   
>  _The freezing air, the disorientation from the rolling car. The engineer breathing hard behind her as she struggled to pull him along. Searching for any bit of cover she could use. The hard searing punch through her gut and the wheeze of life escaping from behind her. A figure on the ridge._  
>    
> 

 

“You did. The next time I saw you was in DC, on the bridge.” 

“You almost killed me, with the garrote.” 

“Just like you trained me. I wanted…” Natasha paused, and she let the pain come up of her failure. “I wanted to set you free, like me, but I couldn’t. There was only one other way I could help you.” 

James nodded, turning away from her, facing the park with the skyline at his back. 

Natasha watched him, secrets bleeding away except for the largest one she held back. It needed the right timing though.

“I could really use a good shot of vodka right about now,” James murmured, then laughed sourly. 

>   
>  _If they send me for you, you do what you have to. Promise me, Natusik._  
>  _I promise, I promise. I will be good! They will never send you after me._  
>    
> 

“I have a safe house, not too far from here. With the good stuff,” she offered, pushing up off the statue. It was cold, but nothing like the frozen places of her memory. 

“Okay.” James stood up too, turning to her, waiting. Trusting.

“Do you remember the things you told me, when I was twelve?” She asked without thinking. She pointed a path going to the other side of the park, and he walked with her.

“Only a little. I remember… being more whole at that time, somehow. They left me out for a long time, without wiping me.” 

“They realized then, that the longer you remain out, the more likely you were to remember, to break programming. Every second you’re awake now is a victory over them.” 

>   
>  _Take this. Hide it. Wait until they send you on an isolation training run. Then inject yourself. It will make you stronger. It will help you survive._  
>  _The packet was small. It glowed blue. He shoved it down the front of her sports bra. It was cold against the growing bump of her breast._  
>  _The machines they use on me. It’s one of the final test for trainees, when you’re older. You will survive if you use this. You must survive, Natusik._  
>  _The next day, Sasha was gone. She did as she was told._  
>  _A year later, he returned. His jaw was wired shut. He did not recognize her signal._  
>    
> 

 

“You saved me, you know.” Natasha kept her voice low as they walked, her arms wrapped around herself. 

James paused, watching her. Something was still turning in his mind. She wondered how bad the memory storm was for him. “The serum packet.” 

She nodded. “You were right. They tested the cryo on me. And the chair.” She bit back all emotion from that word. She would not cry.

“Oh Natusik.” It was sudden, but she was enveloped in strong arms, thankfully padded by doubled up hoodies. She could cling to him. She did cling to him. She wasn’t too proud to admit it. “I’m sorry. I should have killed more of them in the seventies.” 

She barked out a laugh to keep from crying. The cat hair on his clothes made her throat want to seize up enough as it was. “I read about that. You changed a lot of protocol that year.” 

James snorted, then eased up on the hug to let her continue walking. They stayed close together though. The silence that fell was very comfortable. 

The house she led him to was in a modest neighborhood. She had taken care to make sure it looked lived in. “This is mine, not Shield’s. I set up the security here,” she told him before keying in a code. 

Natasha led him downstairs, into the basement where she knew it would be safer. For this, it would be better to have the data to back her up. Also, it had a lot of the tech tools she had taught herself on, to be able to adapt the way she had. The table she had cleared simply by dumping everything into a plastic bin on the floor. 

“How long have you had this place?” Natasha took a moment to show the label of the Tovaritch bottle before pouring two glasses. He took the shot glass of vodka she handed him, saluting her before downing it. “Ohhh, you do have the good stuff.” 

“I got it while I was still with the Russians. Never told them though. They think I stayed in a place across town.” She took her own shot, smiling a bit at the strength. “I didn’t even tell Clint about this place.” 

“Why me then?” The light lit up his eyes, the deep blue she only saw in the freezing Russian skies. More memories beckoned to her, memories she hadn’t realize they were still missing. But she had to answer. Natasha felt she owed him honesty.

“Because you’re out of the game. And your friends, this would be an inconsequential fact for them. They’re interested in other things.” 

He nodded, thinking that over before accepting the refill of his glass. “Then it will not be known from me, not even Steve.” 

Natasha laughed softly, pulling him over to a table to sit down. She had planned this. She had the computer and the print outs at her elbow now. James did not look at them. “Steve’s the worst under cover agent I know but he always finds out the truth.”

James winked at her, saluting her again with his glass. “The secret to Steve is to distract him.” 

“You’re probably better at that than I would be.” She glanced at the files, playing with her empty glass, even as he refilled his own. 

“Are these the files you held back from him?” He asked softly, this time sipping at his drink.

“Some of them. Some are from a different line of research I did.” She searched for the silence inside herself, the calmness that he had taught her to achieve before taking a shot.

>   
>  _Tony was too busy chewing out Cap about not letting him come help in DC to pay attention to Natasha in the lab. This was one of the lesser labs anyways, people always coming and going. Natasha had taken precautions to keep even Jarvis out of the machine she was using._  
>  _Maria had retrieved all her gear from the fake Shield along with Steve’s shield and Sam’s Falcon wings. Natasha had taken precautions to bag the garrote the moment she saw it._  
>  _Now, days later, she could swab it for skin cells. The Soldier had used his right hand. She could only hope that there would be enough. Anything she could do to help prove it as fact for Steve._  
>  _Rebecca’s DNA was in the database because Stark was Stark and gathered everything. Natasha understood genetics well enough to know it would find some sort of match between the two._  
>  _The match told her a lot more than she expected._  
>    
> 

“After DC, we went to live in New York. Steve was kinda hoping Brooklyn would call you home.” Natasha smiled and shrugged a little. 

James snorted. “Not a bad plan, really. Only I was holed up in a beach house in Virginia those first few weeks.” He shrugged back. 

“Well, New York was good for me, because Stark lets me play in his labs to make my own weapons. He doesn’t pay attention much to what I do in there, either.” 

James was watching closely as she opened up the folder. “On the bridge, when I tried to throttle you, you had your right hand up, the flesh hand. My garrote scraped off a large amount of skin cells.”

“Enough to run DNA? Were you able to get a serum reading out of it?” James leaned forward, reaching for the folder.

Natasha laughed sourly. “I didn’t even think about that, I’m sorry. I ah, I ran a DNA test against Rebecca’s, to prove Steve was right about who you were.” 

“Oh.” James sat back, his eyes shifting off to the side again. “I didn’t realize they wouldn’t believe him.” 

“I never used it though. Eventually he walled off his project of finding you away from everything else the Avengers did. So I didn’t have to.” The last chance not to tell the secret. She was tired of keeping it though, so tired. She wanted the truth too.

James watched her, head cocked a little. In here, the light was soft, but strong enough that she could pick out the blue in his eyes. “Why not?” 

Any calm she might have had fled her. No more ice in her veins to keep her emotions under control. Her heart pounded loud enough that Natasha knew he could hear it. She bit her lip, then looked away. Madam B was right, she was a coward.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” James was smiling at her. Forgiving her. 

“No, I do.” Natasha took a deep breath, then poured herself a double strength shot. 

James reached across to take the bottle, pouring himself a drink as well. His Russian was still flawless. [ Won’t cure what ails us, but it passes the time? ]

Natasha laughs at that, shaking her head before knocking the shot back. She let it make her hiss. 

“Rebecca wasn’t the only one whose DNA matched yours. That’s what I couldn’t tell Steve.” She gave him the most honest smile she could find. Or rather, Natusik smiled back at him. “It seems, we crossed paths six times.” 

She turned the folder around, opening it up to the chart where her DNA profile was compared against his. With the chromosomal test results on the next page. Both matched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The expanded title to this chapter is "Five Times Natasha Romanoff Remembered Crossing Paths With The Winter Soldier And One Time She Didn't." 
> 
> DOODS!! Peoples!! I've been sitting on this chapter for two months! And now? Imma hide. *dives behind the couch*
> 
> In much better news!! The awesome ChibiSquirt drawed a James picture for us! [With the purple streaks in his hair!](https://chibisquirt.tumblr.com/post/148794911027/so-this-used-several-skills-i-havent-used-in)
> 
> and yeah, I have a [Tumblr too,](http://gryphye.tumblr.com/) if you feel the need to yell at me more directly.


	5. Overload

“You’re sure he meant three hours?” Eliot growled, slapping back when Hardison swatted at his fingers on his sacred keyboards. The slap fight went on for several rounds. 

“What else could he have meant? And it’s only been two so far,” Parker replied, tugging and twirling a lock of her long blond hair in an attempt to control her own nerves.

“He’s got his cell phone. If he hasn’t called back in three hours, I’ll turn the GPS on and we’ll go get him.” Hardison was calm, or at least faking it. Parker wanted to strangle him. 

They were still in Lucille, parked outside headquarters after dropping DA off at the hotel they’d set up for the con. All the calls were routed to Eliot’s phone anyways. The old vet loved the hotel though, especially the large jacuzzi tub. He looked more relaxed than Parker had ever seen him before.

“So are we counting three hours from when he last spoke on coms or…” Eliot muttered to himself, mostly.

“When he waved to me and I said that thing about not being able to speak again. Three hours from there.” Parker held firm on that. The fact that James felt safe enough to be on his own with Romanoff spoke volumes about how he needed to speak to the woman. Parker had caught the subtle hand signal when they had met, and it had been enough to release some of the tension in her friend.

She was still going to worry though. That part of the job never ended. He was family. “I wish we knew what link they have.” 

The three of them sat quietly, listening to the static of Hardison’s machines and the sounds of cars passing on the street across from theirs. 

That’s what Parker would blame later on for nearly jumping out of her skin at the sound of someone pounding on the back door of Lucille. The door clicked as someone tripped the lock, causing the three of them to stare at each other. It swung open to admit the blond that had come for James, the one named Sharon. One of the ways Parker got James was because names were hard for her too.

“Listen, I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Sharon started, swinging the door shut behind her. “But Romanoff is incommunicado and probably with James, we know. But we need her skills and you’re just as good. I need your help.” 

~~~

James looked at the printouts, the graphs, anywhere other than Natasha’s face. Everything was blurring together. “Overload,” he murmured, without realizing it. There was a chair behind him. He stumbled a bit backwards before landing in it, ignoring the creak of protest when it took his full weight. 

She stayed on the other side of the work bench, thankfully. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone soft, gentle. “There was no easy way to tell you, and you were tracking so well.” 

James waved his hand in the air between them as he leaned forward to bury his face into both of them. His head was exploding with the massive release of memories. Every time she described something, gave another hand signal as she spoke, it triggered something else. “I think I'm going to throw up,” he admitted. 

She moved around the bench then, grabbing a half empty plastic bin and dumping it into another one before handing it to him. The crash of metal bits reminded him of Hardison. That pulled him out of the storm, and he clutched at the bin when she handed it to him. He wanted Parker. Parker always knew to rub his back and press close to anchor him. Natasha stepped back to give him room. The distance was probably good, but he also missed her presence being close.

“I don’t remember,” he finally said, when he had a chance to breath. “Shouldn’t I remember that?” Wouldn’t he remember making a baby? It would have been one of the few pleasures that the Asset had in his meager life. It should be a goddamn highlight, no matter how bad the sex might have been. 

Natasha didn’t answer right away. “Take your time. I took several days.” James managed a look up at her. The red hair couldn’t hide the blush she wore, being braided back out of the way. She was looking down as well, away from him. She looked nothing like Rebecca. She looked like herself, no one else. 

Eliot’s training finally kicked in. Be critical, be doubtful. If something sounds too good, make them explain it. He had said those words when James had asked how they chose their clients, how to find out who really needs the help versus the ones that thought to use them, like the Victor Dubenych guy they told him about.

“You seem pretty sure about all this,” he stated. He almost put the bin down but his stomach lurched in protest. So he carried it back to the bench to look at the printouts again. 

“I tested several times, different labs. Then I spent one of your years of recovery looking for answers.” She spoke slowly, carefully pronouncing each word with a soft voice. Almost as if she understood how much his head throbbed right now. 

“Do you have aspirin, Tylenol, or something like that?” He asked. 

Natasha nodded, blinking once before turning away. “That stuff works on you? It doesn’t on Steve.” 

The bottle she brought back was labeled in Russian, something he wasn’t familiar with. “In really big doses, yeah.” He tried to piece out what the stuff was before Natasha took it back. 

“Tzitramon. It’s like Advil here.” She took the bottle and shook out two pills before handing it back to him. She refilled their glasses of vodka, taking the pills before knocking her drink back again. 

James considered the bottle, then shook out four to take with his drink. Probably would only blunt the edge of things. He let them sit a bit, concentrating to see if they were going to settle or if his stomach would reject them. “You said you found answers?”

“They’re not very pretty.” 

James turned and sat down again, keeping the bin by his side. “They never are.” He waited a moment, then looked up. “Can I have a moment?”

She nodded, but then he continued to stare at her, hoping she’d understand. Words were getting hard again. “Oh, Alone? Okay. I’ll just.. Go upstairs for a moment, okay?” James nodded, then watched her as she headed up the stairs. He waited until the door creaked before pulling out his phone.

~~~

“We know you got into Janda’s safe. Whatever he had in there, Stephanie Malick bought it. We need to know what that was.” Sharon had pulled out a small tablet, showing the video that they had tapped into. Eliot looked at his two partners, eyebrow quirked before they watched it. 

Malick walked into the center of an empty room, then pulled the small box out of her purse. It was still in the case that Parker had put the bug on. Malick carefully opened the case, put it on the center of the floor and stepped back all the way to the door. 

The silver object sat by itself, shining in the harsh overhead lights. Then something flashed and the video went staticky. 

“That happened about forty minutes ago. It’s played nothing but static since, and all communications into the building, whether it’s us or them, are useless.” Sharon turned the tablet off and slid it back into her bag, eyes on the three of them. “Can you tell me what you saw? And would you be willing to recon for us?”

The three of them pulled back and looked at each other. Eliot glared. This was exactly the sort of thing they didn’t do.

Hardison nodded, agreeing, his brow frowning as he said one word, “Hydra.” 

Parker made a face, before sighing. She thought as she pursing her lips together, then gave Hardison a meaningful look, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Nu uh, you did not,” Hardison muttered, then he turned to tap a few keys, bringing up their monitoring system. “Oh you did.”

“What,” Eliot growled, shifting to look. “Oh.”

The bug she had planted was still active. Hardison was blocking the screen and Parker was reasonably sure that Sharon couldn’t see it. Were they getting audio? She couldn’t tell from here either.

Parker started to say something in her defense when her cell phone started playing “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.” 

~~~

Parker answered on the second ring. “James. We’ve been worried.” Her tone was calm, but a little off. Her voice was one she would use on a mark. Instead of the calming effect he had hoped for, his nerves started to sing and ghostly fingers caressed the back of his neck.

“There’s someone else there,” He stated, sitting up straighter, rubbing at the goosebumps left behind.

“Yes, but it’s okay. We can come get you whenever you want us to. No problem.” 

Did she mean us as Hardison and Eliot were also there? “Are you still in the van with the boys?” 

“Yeah, they got out fine. Shield’s still working the case. They want to know if you know where Romanoff is.” 

James got to his feet to start pacing. Immediately he started thinking of contingency plans in case he had to break them out. Then he paused, and admitted only to himself. Plans to help them break themselves out. “Yes, I’m with her. I’m okay. We’re talking. We have history. It’s,” James paused, not sure how much to say over the phone. “It’s hard. Do you need me there?”

“No, we’ll call you if something comes up. Or you can call us, of course.” The voice was still the mark tone. 

“You're sure you’re not in trouble?” He had left them with Shield. Steve said they could be trusted, but they had fooled him before. 

“James, we’re okay.” There was her real voice, soft and reassuring. “We’ll call, I promise.” 

Something beeped on his phone, then a video feed began to play on a split screen. One half was the scene inside the van, the three of his friends with Sharon Carter. The other side was Malick with a small silver rectangle, one that looked very familiar to him, although he couldn’t place it. Then the second half of the video shorted out into static. Hardison’s text program began to catch him up to speed. “Okay. I got it. Tell Hardison I can’t turn on my GPS, as a favor to my host. But if I need you, I will. And my tracker.”

“Okay, will do James,” Parker replied.

“Stay safe, then. Don’t make me worry.” He murmured as he hung up. He had meant to draw security and grounding from her, but instead she’d brought him to alert status. He wanted to race downtown immediately. Or punch something, at least.

“What’s making you worry?” Natasha asked from the stairs. She held a plate of something and a pot of what smelled like good Russian tea. 

“Your people have gotten my friends caught up in something. Come take a look.” James held up his phone and tapped it to rewind the video. It still played both sides, but he wanted her to see Sharon anyways. “They are looking for you too, then went to my people as a backup.” 

Natasha took the phone from him, frowning as she watched, then rewound to watch again. “I’ve seen that before,” she finally said, after the fifth review. He’d already pulled a couple pastilas off the plate to make them disappear, smiling innocently at her as he licked the sugar off his fingers. She merely smirked as she handed the phone back.

“You’ve seen it?” He asked hopefully, following her over to the bench where she pulled out other folders to spread out. “It looked familiar, but nothing is clicking for me.” Natasha had been in the chair. She would understand about the holes in his head. 

Some of the folders got pushed to the side, and he picked up one out of curiosity. The face on the top photo was far too familiar and he slapped it shut again before those memories could overwhelm. Not Zola, but almost as bad. Karpov had been the one to develop the deeper programming, after the wipe and cryo processes had been perfected. James shuddered a little to himself.

“Here,” Natasha said, drawing him away from the folder. She was spreading out schematics and drawings of his arm. He moved closer, tapping on one. “Yes, that was one of your early versions. It actually froze solid in cryo, so they replaced it.” Natasha looked up at him, eyebrows slightly pinched. “Does this bother you, reading these?” 

James started to shake his head no, but truth was it all bothered him. He shrugged. “Some yes, some no? Wait!” He pulled another sheet free from the pile, cocking his head at it. 

“That’s what I was trying to remember. It’s not Vibranium or Adamantium, but a circuitry level alloy of those two combined with plain copper for conductivity.” She looked closer at the writing, then blanked her face as she looked up at him. 

“It’s in my arm, isn’t it?” He flexed his left fingers, his beautifully normal looking fingers, thanks to Shield’s holograph sleeve. 

“If I’m reading this right, it’s what they used to connect it to your nervous system.” Her voice was flat. So there was more to it. James made a mental note to look later. When he was ready to.

“And?” 

“And it has a fourth compound in it. It’s called Technetium. Common uses for it is in x-ray machines in any given hospital.”

“This isn’t common.” 

Natasha barked a laugh, her face relaxing a little. “Nothing about that is normal. Including the levels. By rights you should be triggering any Geiger counter you walk past.” 

“But I don’t. Why is the sample they have shorting out videos?” 

“I don’t know. Wanna go with me to find out?” She smiled in anticipation, suddenly making him think of Parker’s look of deviltry when she finds a new thrill in a job.

“Natusik, it would be a pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cookies this week. Natasha will share her pastila?  
> 


	6. In A New York Minute

If Natasha was honest with herself, and she always tried very hard to be, the offer to go spying with her had been a joke more than an actual offer. But there he was, watching her gear up from the selection of things she had left in the safe house. James had declined the offer of weapons, although she already knew he carried some things. 

It was when she was hacking back into the Shield system from her dusty laptop [state of the art circa 2008] that he started asking questions again. At least most of the tensions had eased between them. 

“You learned to hack too?” James had eased around the corner. Still several feet away but at an angle he could see some of what was on the screen. 

“It’s useful. I’ve tried my best to stay ahead of the curve on technology.” Her most recent back door into Shield hadn't been discovered yet. She had the schematics of the building up on the screen in just seconds, so she shifted it where he could see better. 

“Good. I’m still behind, but Hardison is catching me up.” His right hand was in his hoodie pocket, no doubt wrapped around his cell phone. Tony always kept Tasha supplied with the latest Stark edition but she had a feeling that James’ phone would be comparable. 

“Your friend is one of the best. The world thinks he’s as much of a ghost as you were at one point.” She looked up at him with a soft smile. It still shook her to see those eyes so open and curious. The only time she had ever seen him like that was in the photos that the Smithsonian had copied for Steve. 

“I know. And he will be again, once he shakes Shield. I’m sure of it.” A soft smile curled around James’ lips, making him look even more surreal. Not once in the Red Room had she seen him smile, not even when she hit a mark they told her was impossible for her. A wave of jealousy washed through her, but she quickly tamped it down. 

“Probably. Now here’s the place where the video came from,” she deflected, drawing him in to plot a scouting plan. All she wanted was to get eyes on the thing. If necessary, take it or destroy it. Malick and her people couldn’t be allowed to benefit from it. Of course, if she could use it to cause problems for Malick’s people, that would work too. Always keep your options available. 

James withdrew into himself a little as they walked back to the car, but the questions still rode heavy in the air between them. “When did…” he finally started to ask, then sputtered to a stop. “I still don’t remember.”

“It was in the sixties, when they started to deep program some things into you. They learned that pleasure worked better than torture, once you completely belonged to them.” For this, she was glad she was who she was. Tony and Steve, and most of the others, they would blush and shift away from this. Americans were weird about sex.

“So you were born then?” James’ hair had shifted down over his face again, but she could still see the glance he shot her through the protective fall. A streetlight made the purple streaks shine, distracting her again.

“No. They ah, took samples from you, kept it frozen as they perfected in vitro methods.” She laughed softly. “In the Eighties, Americans would have called me a test tube baby.”

“In vitro,” he murmured, looking away. He repeated the words, then she realized the process he was using, seeing if he knew what that meant.

“It’s artificial insemination. Meaning that they injected my mother with your sperm at the right time. I was born in ‘68.” She paused, waiting for him to process before they got into the car.

Natasha wondered if he would put it together, and how completely he would see the picture. He turned away, looking out across the city with his back to her. His shoulders hunched in. It was like watching Steve all over again. Did they know how similar they were? Was it because they had lived thirty years together or was it because of where they came from? She didn’t have a clue.

She barely heard the curse as she watched, but it was there. And fittingly, it was Russian. “How many?” He finally asked, turning to her with a twist to his face.

“They tried for a decade, but there were only six of us who were born. The serum did something twisted to the samples, or it didn't take to being frozen, I don't know. I haven’t quite figured out what from their documents yet.” 

“Six. Fuck. Jesus Christ. Six!” He rubbed at his face, groaning. She knew the next question already. 

“Three had severe problems from birth, they didn’t make it past five. One, a boy named Pavel, he made it through the Red Room. He died on a mission in ‘94. Then me.” She took a deep breath, suddenly afraid to say the next part.

“Tell me Natasha. All of it.” His words were soft, but there was command in them too.

“The sixth girl was born last, in ‘76. They named her Yulianna. She went through the Red Room too.” Natasha shook her head to cut off another question. “No, I didn’t know either of them. She had problems, I think. She failed a mission, so they moved her into the Winter program. Her records end with the shift to Hydra. I don’t know where she is now.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

The restaurant was pretty empty when Rebecca went through the door. She waved off the hostess, then points to the bar in the back. “Just want a drink, thanks.” 

The girl who had driven the cab, Alice, she was tending bar. And she had purple streaks in her blond hair to match James. Rebecca decided she liked it. Especially as Alice had her hair up in an elegant bun where the streaks were highlighted rather than distracting. It was an interesting effect. 

“Hey. Could I have a Manhattan?” she gave the glaring girl a hopeful smile, folding in on herself as she leaned on the bar. 

Alice made the drink and brought it over with a scowl. Her frustration was evident in her tone, and Rebecca felt the echo in herself. “You’re not off dancing at the party with all your friends?” 

“Nope.” Rebecca threw all her accent into the word, saluting Alice with the glass. “I was deemed a civilian and not a part of their reindeer games.” She took a sip, and despite the other girl’s mood, she could mix a good drink. “Mmm, perfect balance, thanks.” 

“Welcome. So what, you decided to come here to hang out?” Alice was starting to close down the bar. Rebecca hadn’t realized how late it was. 

“Yeah. See, James? He’s my great uncle. And out of everyone here, you’re the only one who knows him and isn’t off doing something else. Was kinda hoping to talk some. Get to know what he’s like kind of stuff.” She shrugged, offering another smile before taking a second sip. 

Alice stared at her for a moment, then snorted softly. “What he’s like, huh? Well, for starters, my nephew adores him. Loves it when James is the one who picks him up from school because they go do secret stuff in James’ garage. It’s almost annoying how adorable it is.” 

Rebecca chuckled, relaxing at the admission. “He let you streak his hair?” 

“Asked me to. Said he’d seen a few people around town with streaked hair.” Alice smiled, moving over to lean close to Rebecca. “It’s good though, makes him feel less conspicuous, in a way.” 

“Yeah, you don’t expect a timeless assassin when you see that, uh… what’s it called? Is Seattle Grunge still a thing here?” 

“Oh god, you even capitalized it when you said it! That’s funny!” Alice laughed, dropping her head a bit but relaxing quite a lot.

“Guess it’s not. It looks good though. You both rock it really well.” Rebecca took a long drink, trying to collect her thoughts. This wasn’t really her area of expertise, no matter what tips Natasha had tried to give her.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Alice stood up straighter, waving at the hostess at the door. “Sorry, it’s closing time.” 

“I figured. I’ll just finish my drink and then, maybe we can talk?” She fished money out of her pocket, liking the freedom of not carrying a purse this time around. 

“Sounds good.” Alice started to say something else, then stood up straight, looking at the door again. Rebecca turned, frowning as well. 

A group of four people had pushed in past the hostess, dressed in the sort of combat ops clothing that she was familiar with at the Avengers Academy. “Oh look, assholes. You have the worst timing.” Rebecca turned back to Alice, digging out her phone. “You might want to get down. I bet they have the back covered too.” 

The call connected and rang twice. “Yeah?” The familiar voice asked, a little surprised.

“Hey Steve, you wanna bring Guinevere over to me? I got company.” Rebecca felt both the panic and adrenaline rising, making her jitter in place. 

“On my way.” The call disconnected, letting Rebecca focus on the now. She dropped the phone on the bar, hoping Alice would get it to Hardison if this went bad. 

The four agents, two men and two women, spread out as they walked across the restaurant to her. “What do you assholes want?”

One actually answered. “You. You're useful.”

“Yeah? Am I a hostage or something else?” She flexed her knuckles, testing the old break a little. Seattle made it ache. 

The one that had answered merely smiled at her. Crap. No narrowing things down to argue out of this. 

“Huh. OK, so on one hand, yay, you did research! On the other…” The first guy got close enough to grab for her. She caught his hand and swung under his arm before jabbed her elbow into the back of his neck. “You fucks forgot who I live with.” 

The other three charged in at that point. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Steve took his time going into the restaurant, listening to the thumps and curses. There should have been a front hostess, but it looked like she had run. He couldn't blame her.

The main floor was in shambles. Tables were thrown everywhere, one body on the floor, four people still fighting and one girl with purple streaks in her hair sitting on the bar, filming everything with her cell phone and cackling. OK, that part was a little odd. 

Steve spun the lancer named Guinevere and whistled as loud like a New York boy could. He heard a whoop and a hand shot up in the air, so he tossed the lancer, yelling just as loudly, “Do not shoot holes in the wall! No attention!” 

Rebecca caught the lance and immediately swung it to get her some breathing space. Steve leaned against the entrance, pretending to guard it as he watched. He had argued since the Battle of New York that she should join in the fight, and now that she had, he needed to supervise, right? He scratched at his beard, still not used to it.

“Steve, don’t just sit there!” The lancer swung, connecting just like a well swung baseball bat on a curve ball against a man’s head and he went down immediately. “Get your ass over here!”

“You seem to be doing just fine.” A flash from the front end, and another fighter went flying across the room to crash into the brick wall. The last one was just now realizing there was someone else there. Her body language shifted, now they were thinking retreat. That, he couldn’t let happen. Someone had to explain the situation. 

He lifted up on his toes just as Natasha had taught him, taking a dozen silent steps over to catch her just as she was about to slip out the side door. She was about Rebecca’s size, so it was simple to just lift her up into the air and let her swing as Rebecca a seat at the bar, wincing as she checked the bleeding cut on her mouth. The fighter tried to kick him. He just swatted her feet with his free hand, almost lazily.

“Wow, that was like watching Eliot fight!” The girl on the bar said with glee. “Where did you learn to do that?” 

Rebecca just laughed and powered down Guinevere, then pointed at him. “Alice Gallagher, I’d like you to meet Steve Rogers. Stevie, this is Alice. She’s fun. Now what?”

“Rogers? Like Captain America?” The phone swung to him now, a couple quick snaps. “I thought you were blond. But I like the beard, kinda.” 

“Shhh, I’m not really here,” he answered, before taking his time to divest the fighter of all her weapons. She had stopped wiggling so he let her feet touch the ground again. “I think we get answers. My favorite will be who they were intending to use you as collateral for. Me, or James?” He ran his free hand through his brown hair. The dye made it feel weird, somehow. The only thing worse than the hair or the beard were the contacts that turned his eyes brown. Everything itched.

Rebecca shook her head, then looked at Alice. “What’s Eliot’s clean up process? And does Parker have any rope stashed down here?” 

“Not collateral,” the woman gasped, looking up at Steve in disgust, then blanched as she realized that she had let that out.

Steve shared a look with Rebecca. That meant her knowledge on the serum or the Winter Soldier program was the lure. That actually felt worse, somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you guys were wondering when Steve would show up. As if things weren't already complicated. Oh, and regarding Natasha. I kinda borrowed from the comics there, to make my timeline neater. She's a good enough hacker that she could've fooled everyone, including Hydra, about who she was. 
> 
> *hands out stressballs and cookies* 
> 
> Also, you guys seem to like the shorter updates so I'll try to keep them around this size or smaller. My wrist likes that too, even if my brain is all "OMG you're so behind!" Stupid brain.


	7. No Fun Storming This Castle

The building that Hardison’s bug led them to was an office building at the edge of a private air strip. It was decommissioned, so Eliot felt safe that it wasn’t necessarily a convenience thing. Still, empty air strips were great for a once off flight getting the hell out of town. 

“Eliot.” Hardison’s voice was low, tugging him instinctively over next to the hacker at his control desk. “I was stripping down through land deeds. This was owned by Cloverfield last year. Guess who bought it?”

“Malick?” That would make sense with the level of disgust on Hardison’s face. 

“Nope. Janda.” Hardison tapped a few keys, pulling up an internal memo. “He was planning to use this as a base of operations, but not for Rydr. It doesn’t say what.”

“Has he started on renovations?” Parker asked from the driver’s seat. Sharon, to her credit, was only white knuckling a little bit in the passenger seat. 

“No, there’s plans for that, but they’ve been delayed. I’m still digging.” Eliot squeezed Hardison’s neck in lieu of a kiss before heading back up to crouch behind Parker’s seat. 

“I’m thinking maybe Hardison should stay in the van and work, while we go in, yeah?” He suggested.

“Will our coms work in there?” Parker countered. “I really don’t like leaving him out here if we can’t know what’s happening out here.” 

“Anything happens, I’m driving a straight line to those Shield condos,” Hardison muttered. “I’m better out here, you know that. And I have an idea about the coms.” 

Both Eliot and Parker winced as feedback rattled through their heads, yelling at Hardison in unison. “Sorry, sorry, that was my bad. Changing frequencies and the wifi settings. What I’m getting through your bug is that it’s interference and I’ve filtered that out.” 

“Why didn’t we catch that?” Sharon asked aloud, then shrugged and let the question stand. 

“Probably because you were monitoring externally. Parker’s bug meant we had something inside the phenomena, so it gave me more data.”

“Can you hear anything out of it yet?” Sharon asked hopefully.

“Just this.” Hardison pulled back as a low deep hum played. It made Eliot’s teeth pulse in his jaw. From their faces, he could tell the other three were feeling it as well. 

Hardison turned it off after a few seconds, then wiggled his jaw. “That sucked. But no, no voices, no mechanical, just that hum.” 

“Okay, so Parker, you and Sharon go in, see what you can find. I’ll sit on your exit to make sure you can get back out. Hardison will keep working in here. That way, I can get to either one of you if you need me.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Parker had some reservations about taking Sharon with her. Frankly, there weren’t a lot of people who weren’t thieves that could handle crawling through air ducts like this. Hardison certainly couldn’t, while Eliot was just too big. James liked them though, the ones he could fit in, at least. 

But Sharon kept up, and even knew how to brace herself in a spider crawl to go up and down the vertical shafts. 

“You know, you look like you do this every day,” Parker finally commented, wedged in a shaft on the second floor. 

“I kind of did. We train pretty hard in unconventional methods. You would have wiped the floor with us on this though.” Sharon’s smile was open, and the corners of her eyes did that crinkle thing. Real smile.

“Huh. That might be interesting.” Parker smiled back. “I still want a crack at Stark’s tower some day.” She only let a tiny giggle out as she slid down the shaft to the vent overlooking the room. Parker peered through the grill, then pulled out one of the little earthworm looking cameras that Hardison had designed. Sharon slid in next to her, pulling out her own spy gear to take a peek.

The room was empty. The little case that she’d seen in the vault sat open in the center of the floor still. The silver rectangle didn’t seem to be doing anything. 

“Hardison, can you hear me? Are you getting this?” Parker whispered.

“It’s a li— staticky but —ah I’m getting so—ing.” The reception in her ear was squawky, like the ones he’d had to cobble together out of walkie talkies once before. 

Sharon glanced over her, one sculpted eyebrow flicking up in question. “Yeah, but the static is bad. Yours?” Parker asked.

“No go. So it’s just us. And that?” Sharon pointed to the silver object.

“Yeah, that’s a trap,” Parker finished for her. “How good are you at free climbing?”

~ ~ ~ ~

Natasha’s driving wasn’t anything like Parker’s. No sliding around curves, no bursts of high speeds, and definitely under precise control. But there was something about how they drove that was similar. They were both very into the act of it, present in the moment and tended to give it all their considerable attention. 

James had said yes to going with Natasha for two reasons. One, he didn’t want to have to think about what she told him, about herself and their connection. And two, well… she wasn’t going to let this slide just because he didn’t want to be alone. He almost asked her to drop him off on the way, but stubbornness made him want to stick it out. 

He still couldn’t remember. Those memories were still locked deep in his head, or he might not have been very conscious at the time. There was a lot of fuzz in his brain from similar times. Not so much when his handlers changed nationalities or after, but before that. 

“If I didn’t know that the US did things like that, or China, or even Britain, I’d call the Germans and the Russians some mighty sick individuals with what they’ve gotten away with.” Natasha’s voice was soft. She wasn’t even looking at him but somehow she knew what he was thinking.

“You mean Steve?” He asked as a deflection. 

“No, I mean Bruce. And several of the kids I know who grew up as part of Shield. They’re almost as brainwashed as we were. Some of them.” 

“Then again, they were Hydra inside Shield, so we can keep blaming them for a little bit longer,” James asked. He remembered the Strike teams going out with him several times. Rumlow’s group had just been the last ones. 

Natasha laughed sourly, turning into an industrial area and slowing down. “Well okay yeah, you’ve got a point there.” Her attention went to the surroundings, letting him watch her. She still looked like just herself, no one else. “Parking lot is on the other side of the building. I’d rather park here, out of sight.” 

James nodded, then actually looked at the building. There was nothing special about the exterior. That somehow made it a little worse. “You sure this isn’t Hydra? They keep things looking plain to hide in public a lot.” 

“Not according to the records we pulled up.” Natasha drew a breath, pausing as she cocked her head and thought. Something about that was familiar, almost Steve-like. “What was the name of your mark again? The one with the cocktail party tonight?” 

“Janda. But he doesn’t have any real links to Hydra, other than selling them artifacts now and then. Hardison looked.” 

“Yeah, we might need to take another look. He owns this place too.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

It was actually kind of nice to be in the van by himself. Hardison had spent quite a bit of the past ten years in one or another of the Lucilles, so it was extremely comfortable. Which was a good thing with what he was seeing. The girls were right, the whole set up screamed trap at him too. 

But they weren’t alone in this, not anymore. A two second text, then Skye was answering his Skype call. “Hey Hardison, didn’t expect you to ditch our raid tonight.” 

“Yeah, ended on a different kind of raid. Hellfire Citadel will still be there tomorrow. Shield call you in tonight?” Hardison took a second, stretching his arms up to the roof and curled his back to pop a joint.

“Yeah, something about a mystery metal and not being able to crack through bad signal. I’ve been poking at it from here, but I’m still in New York,” Skye replied. 

“Okay. Well I’m right outside, and we actually have a broadcasting bug inside. Want me to link you in?” Hardison was already setting up the connection. 

“Why is it I never could find you before, and now you’re right in the middle of everything we’re doing?” Skye mused, already poking at the information spreading on the screen.

“Probably because I kept us completely out of the crazy stuff you guys mess with.” Hardison leaned back, poking at the security system of the building again. It was there, just unresponsive. 

Just as he was figuring out the reason, Skye asked, “Exactly how did you get a bug in there to begin with?” 

“Skye, you guys gotta find yourselves a Parker. You can’t have mine, so don’t ask.” 

Oh, that’s why it was unresponsive. Someone had scrambled the command program in interesting ways. Once he worked through that, he owned everything inside. Sensors, the entire electronic lock system, and the cameras. 

“Okay Eliot, I’m finally in. There’s about six people besides our girls in there, and all of them are upstairs, watching the room on video. I can scramble that whenever we’re ready and,” Hardison paused, panning one camera around. “Uh, scratch that, there are two others in there, and I don’t know who they are. Parker? Can you hear me?” 

The static was still bad. Whatever the interference was, it wasn’t party of the security suite. “Yeah, —idson, what?” 

“You’re not alone in there. Watch your back in there, baby girl.” He left the “come back to me” hang in the air. She knew he felt it. But he also knew that to say it, was to hold her back. And that wasn’t how Parker worked. 

“Woah, now that’s interesting!” he heard loud and clear, right before every signal out of the building went dead on him. 

“Eliot! Parker! Someone, talk to me!” 

“Hardison, I think I need to call in backup for you,” Skye said calmly. OK, maybe Shield was useful after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so I've been posting this thing since March. That's six months! One, I need to finish this thing. Two, this was the first time I almost missed my self imposed deadline. Stupid wrist. Stupid dentist. Stupid AC. This is 3/4ths beta'd, so any and all errors are mine.
> 
> Y'all go out and have some fun for me this weekend, OK?


	8. Places You Shouldn't Be

Steve wasn’t supposed to be in Seattle. He had agreed to leave New York so that James could make his visit, that’s true. According to the itinerary he’d set up with Pepper, he was supposed to be touring art museums through the Midwest. Just about every city had some fine museums. There was even a Matisse exhibit in Oklahoma City that he’d read about with great interest. 

Steve had followed the itinerary just long enough to get the beard started and dye his hair. One of Rebecca’s cousins, a kid also named Steven, was having the time of his life with his name sake’s credit card and itinerary, along with a camera. He also had a gift for describing art, so anytime someone checked in on the real Steve, he had plenty of ready answers. 

So while Rebecca dealt with Shield coming in to collect the four fighters who’d tried to kidnap her, Steve sat upstairs in the dark office with her lancer, letting the two women lie to the agents about how she took down her attackers. He felt so ridiculous, like a kid told to go to bed while the grownups talked. He’d spent plenty of nights as an actual kid, listening to Sarah and Winifred through the door as they talked about his latest bout of sickness or trouble. It almost felt the same way.

Down the hall, leading away from the stairs, he could hear a light scuffle, then a plaintive wail of a meow. James’ cat, he realized. Steve set the lancer on top of a round communal desk, then slipped his boots off. Only then did he tiptoe quietly down the hall to try the door. It was unlocked. 

The cat immediately slipped free to swirl around his calves, meowing louder. She was larger than he expected, and insistent. Steve lifted her up carefully and she immediately started to climb his chest up to his shoulder, snuffling into his ear. It was all he could do to keep from squeaking at the sensation. Voices echoed up the stairs, reminding him not to be heard, so he carefully slipped behind the door and locked it. Hopefully his boots could be explained as Eliot’s if they came up, and the lancer would be attributed to Hardison, maybe. He reminded himself that James had told Shield these rooms were off limits, if they didn’t want Hardison to ransack their systems like kids at Halloween. It was a convenient little justification that he didn’t want to give them a reason to break those orders.

He turned slowly, taking in the sight of James’ living room. Rebecca had described it a bit, but nothing could do it justice. The light was on inside a goldfish tank, letting his enhanced vision make out everything clearly. Next to the tank was a complicated looking cat tree, obviously for the monster still snuffling at his neck. Beyond that was a desk with a computer, shelves full of books and other things, a lot of which looked like escapees from Bruce’s old lab. A clock blinked at him, and he recognized the potato thing that he’d seen James make in the surveillance footage. 

Across from that was a comfortable looking couch and entertainment center. Framed posters of the Andrew Sisters and Carey Grant flanked the TV, both in black and white. Steve didn’t expect the memorabilia about him at all. Most of it was from WWII but there were a few PR things that Pepper had talked him into, including the coming out as pansexual one. 

Other than that, there was a small kitchen with a crowded table bearing even more stuff that looked like it should belong in Tony’s workshops. He could make out a mockup of the hand clearly, and wondered for a moment where the rest of the arm was. Then he shook himself free of that. He shouldn’t be there, but it’s where he’d wanted to be since James told him they were leaving Portland. It created an ache in his chest that he couldn’t see him yet. 

There was another doorway to his right, but he ignored it. Bad enough he’d raided the apartment, but he wasn’t going to go into the bedroom. He’d not be able to help himself then, he thought. 

When he moved closer to the cat tree, Malaya made the leap easily from his shoulder to a ledge, mrowling at him. It sounded like disappointment, or maybe that was his conscience saying that. “Right. I should uh, go.” He pointed at the cat, feeling silly even as he did it. “You, stay.” 

Steve turned to go, then saw something that he couldn’t walk past. A red henley shirt, just like the one James had worn during the Ultron fight in Portland. It hung from the corner of a bookcase. He wasn’t thinking, not really, even if he knew how wrong this was. But he couldn’t stop until he had picked up the shirt and buried his face in it, breathing deeply. He couldn’t stop the tears from coming any more than he could stop the world from spinning. 

When the girls finally came up the stairs, Steve was sitting at the table, his boots back on, with his phone in his hand while he scrolled through a few things. He was reasonably sure neither of them realized he had the shirt stuffed under his own, since he’d also zipped the jacket up a little more to hide it. Just one more thing he had to answer for, when the time came for answers to be laid bare. 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Not — ones th—” Parker sighed at the incomplete message in her ear. “Okay Sharon, looks like we’re on our own, just like we expected. Except,” she paused to wiggle at her earwig again, but got just static. “I think Hardison has the cameras now, and we probably have other people in the building.” 

“Oh, fun. At least he got that out.” Sharon shifted, pulling out a sleek gun to check the magazine. Parker couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose. “I know. I like being prepared though. Now, walk me through this one more time.” 

Sharon picked up on directions pretty well too. She may not have understood it at first, but there she was, sitting at an abandoned secretary’s desk with her legs up on the edge, playing a game on her cell phone like she hadn’t a care in the world. Parker was still up in the air vents, her camera still trained on the silver doohickey in the other room. No one had gone in at all since they arrived, which means the real meeting was somewhere else. 

There were always the guards on patrol. They’d had a little shared smirk over that constant in their lives. And while no one was patrolling around the target, they were definitely patrolling the rest of the building. 

“Damn, that little block is just so tricky!” Sharon muttered to herself as the footsteps got louder just around the corner.

And Sharon didn’t move when footsteps stopped. “Hey guys, hold on. I almost got.. Dammit! Been stuck on this level for two days!” She sighed and put the phone into her pocket, then froze. 

Parker froze too. There was no one there. 

They eyeballed each other. Sharon raised her eyebrow, then silently dropped her feet to the floor.

Parker nodded and slipped out the air vent, taser in hand.

They heard footsteps again. Two sets going away, but one set coming towards them. Parker slipped into a doorway while Sharon stepped back to her chair. The one set kept coming, then a face as familiar to her as a set of lock pics swung around the corner. “Eliot!” 

“What the hell were you two thinking, sitting out in the open like that?” Eliot snarled at them. 

Sharon had jumped up, gun in hand. Parker answered, slipping out of the dark recess so he’d turn on her first. “Trying to tease a guard out so we could steal their com units. Where’s Hardison?” 

“There are no guards here, I haven’t seen any since I came in.” That was not a reassuring thing. There were always guards. “He’s driving around two blocks out while Skye does the hacking through his link. They called in the rest of your Shield buddies, they should be here in a few minutes.” Eliot replied. He gave Parker one of his Looks, the one she read as ‘stop being you for a second.’ She nodded at him, but the day she stopped being herself was the day she got out of this business. 

“Who are they sending?” Sharon asked, moving closer, eyes still on the hallway behind Eliot.

“Barton and Wilson leading a full team, I think. Listen, there are two other people here, breaking in like us. Don’t know who they are, can’t catch them properly on camera. Hardison has the cameras and the door locks but he seems to be shut out of everything else.”

“Closed circuit, no internet connection?” Parker asked. Eliot just nodded. “Okay, so you two go find the boss and when you do, I’ll get the doohickey and we can get outta here when the team arrives.” 

“Hold on. I’m thinking that maybe the whole building is a trap.” Sharon stepped past Eliot, sticking her head out into the hallway where they had heard the footsteps. “And if there are no guards, what did we hear?” 

~ ~ ~ ~

James didn’t like the set up. It was too empty and too quiet. Natasha took point, but it felt like his nervous system was on fire. Neither of them had pulled a weapon yet as they creeped through the office space. 

It was obvious they had been trained by the same people. She moved the way he would have, controlled her breathing with the same techniques. He could see the recognition in her eyes as well, that she saw the same thing. And although he knew there wasn’t really any credit to him, James still felt a surge of pride at her competence.

He tamped it down when she paused, looking around a corner. Her hand dropped to signal a group of four patrolling, then she slipped a gun out of a holster. James tapped her shoulder and held up one finger, then signed his request that he go first. Natasha’s eyes went wide but she nodded, pulling back so he could step around her. He could hear the footsteps clearly. Military boots, with metal studs in them. They’d be trained.

James signed one more thing “trust me,” before he stepped out in the hallway, swaying a bit like Eliot had taught him. “Woah woah guys, hold on!” He held up both hands, warding off the attack he expected. “I’m just lookin’ for th’ bathroom!” 

There was no one there. Behind them, they could hear the sounds of four footsteps receding into the distance.

Natasha stared hard at him. He figured his face was just as stunned. 

“This gets worse and worse the further we get,” she said.

“Yeah. I suggest we get the thing if we can and get out of here. And if your people got my friends mixed up in this,” He let the statement fade, snarling to himself as he stalked down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Steve.... 
> 
> I swear, we're going somewhere soon! Promise! Yes, I'm even annoying myself. Sorry.


	9. Remember What the Dormouse Said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember what the Dormouse said,  
> Feed your head...  
> Feed your head...

Hardison had gotten to know the two square miles around the building quite well by the time Barton and Wilson arrived. Their cargo van went directly up to the front parking lot, and he followed them in the whole way. Skye had done great, but it frustrated them both that there was no other way into the building.

Barton stepped out of the Shield van and climbed into the passenger side of Lucille with a fluid movement that Hardison envied. Parker moved like that, but he’d never been able to learn how. “What’s the situation in there?” 

“As far as I can tell, nothing’s changed. We’ve got the camera feed and the electronic door locks, but that’s it. There’s nothing else we can tap into,” Hardison replied, swinging around to go back to his computers. 

“Hey Clint,” Skye said from the still open Skype connection. “He’s right. The place is bare and I don’t trust the cameras at all.” 

“Why’s that?” Barton asked, squeezing in behind Hardison to look over the screens. 

Hardison pointed to a flicker on one screen. “That’s the kind of stuff we’re seeing. It might be our people. It might be theirs. It might be nothing. We can’t tell at all.” 

“And I’m only getting glimpses of people that may or may not be their team. There’s two other people in there, I think it’s Romanoff, but I can’t get her on comms. And I can’t get a clear look at her,” Skye added. “Here’s the thing, I don’t think there’s anyone else in the building at all.”

Hardison froze. A fragment of a sentence in Sophie’s voice drifted across his memory. _A little NLP, some mesmerism, some of Eliot’s psychotropics._ “Dammit! Holographic maze.”

“A what?” Both Skye and Barton asked at the same time.

Hardison took a moment to block them out and focus on his work. His fingers never stopped moving as he searched through the camera feeds for something, anything, before answering. “It’s a trick we’ve used before. But we had some pretty heavy drugs helping us along. Never mind. I think they built an entire maze out of holographic projections.” He looked up at Skye, muttering, “closed circuit, looped through itself. It didn’t work on Parker at first ‘cause she was in the air vents.”

“Right, that hum from your bug, it could be feedback from the projection system. I’ll attack it from that point, see if I can cause disruptions,” Skye replied, turning away from her computer to go to work. “Would the projection be why there's so much interference and static on both com systems?”

“Absolutely. I called it feedback earlier, that’s exactly what it is.” Hardison pushed Barton out of the way to tackle their comm system. Both Eliot and Parker were wearing theirs. That might be enough of an open door for him, now that he knew the source. “I think it’s time I did another upgrade on those things.” He turned to Barton finally, who was watching him with amusement. “You still have the ear piece I gave you earlier?”

Barton nodded, digging into his tach jacket to pull it out. Hardison took it and dug out one of the burner phones he used for tricks, taking a moment to pair them up. “Okay, so if I can, I’ll send you a feed on the phone and use the ear bud to track you. Once the holograph server is down, you’ll be able to hear me loud and clear.” 

“Thanks. Who do you have in there?” Barton took the ear bud back, slipping it into a notch on his hearing aid. Hardison took half a second to admire the tech that made that possible. 

“That I know of for certain? Parker and Eliot, and your agent, Carter. Guessing Romanoff and maybe James with her. I can’t connect to his phone at all. It keeps giving me the same glitches that Eliot’s phone is giving me. So be careful who you shoot in there, huh?” 

“Absolutely. Any idea of how many people the other side has?” Barton was playing with the cell phone now, in ways all too familiar to Hardison. Skye might not be the only one he had to worry about now.

“At first it looked like they had at least six people, if not more. I haven’t been able to confirm that cause of the interference,” Skye said for him. “Might be no one and our people are lost in an empty building.”

“Right, so I’m going to say that means unknown.” Barton nodded, then slid open the door. “I’m gonna leave one agent with you out here, just so they don’t sneak up and try something. If that’s okay with you?”

“I have no problem with that at all,” Hardison replied. This situation wasn’t what he had been afraid of happening when James landed in their laps, but it was still high in the category of ‘shit they didn’t do.’ He reached over and grabbed a couple pre-loaded thumb drives to hand to Barton. “You see any sort of computer with that holograph system, stick one of these in it. I’ll be able to take it down for sure then.”

Barton saluted him, then slipped out of the van. A minute later, a familiar face looked in through the open door. “Hey, I’m gonna stay out here and watch. You do your thing and give me a yell if there’s an update,” Sam Wilson said. His voice was steady, and very calming. 

“All right. Thanks Sam.” Hardison looked up at the Skype connection, then grinned. “Hey Skye, ever heard of the White Rabbit con? I only know one person who’s ever pulled it off.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

There was something about this whole place that was setting James off. He couldn’t pull up a specific memory, but his stomach was tight and he was getting tiny little electrical shocks from the holo sleeve on his arm. “I don’t like this,” he muttered at Natasha.

She was leaning against the wall, gun out and ready as she surveyed the junction they’d just came across. According to the floor plans she’d pulled up from somewhere, this didn’t exist. “Neither do I. It’s all wrong.” 

James flexed his left arm just to feel the servos respond. They moved as they should, so there were no problems there yet. If the sleeve did cause any disruptions, he’d have to take it off. He felt stupid when he checked his phone. Why hadn’t he checked in with the team before coming in here? Pride, he thought. He didn’t want to appear any weaker than he already was in front of Natasha. “Why are our phones messed up?” He asked as a distraction. 

“Some sort of interference. There’s something broadcasting in this building, strong but limited in range.” Natasha had given up on her phone already. Guess Stark tech wasn’t all that great after all, despite what Hardison had said once. 

James leaned back against the opposite wall, then surged forward. Shocks jumped up from the sleeve into his shoulder and across his chest, biting like a phantom beast. “Natasha. Why would they put electrical currents in the wall?”

She stared at him, frowning, then walked over to the wall to touch it herself. He braced himself to catch her, but nothing happened. “It’s just a wall, I don’t feel anything.” 

James reached out carefully to touch the wall where he had been. Current surged through his arm again, causing warning signals of possible failure within the arm to bloom into his head. “Ow. What then...”

“James, the sleeve. You’re wearing the one Fitz gave you, right? Look.” Natasha murmured. 

When he looked down at his hand, it had taken on the beige color of the wall. As they watched, it faded back to the flesh tones of his own skin. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then James carefully reached out with a fingertip. It turned beige instantly, with the same electrical overload surging up his arm, just smaller since he was using less screen space. 

He tapped the wall carefully, and it sounded hollow, just like a wooden door would sound. He drew a finger across the top and felt hinges at the proper height, so he drew another line down and bumped into a door knob. “Someone’s covered up a doorway with a hologram like my sleeve,” he guessed.

“So let’s see what they were hiding?” Natasha suggested.

“Right.” James tried the door, but it was locked. Interference rolled up his arm more as he took a tighter grip and yanked. The flimsy lock gave way instantly and the door slammed open. It was surreal, seeing a wooden door hanging open out of a solid wall. 

They waited, but there was no reaction from the other side. James flashed a quick sign for Natasha to stay at his back before he stepped through the wall. 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Parker knew everything was a set up, and a trap, but she couldn’t put her finger on why this was so familiar. They’d pulled off a lot of cons over the past decade, but she relied on Hardison to keep them all straight for her. It was a weakness, she knew, and one the Parker before Leverage would never have allowed. But she knew now that it wasn’t a true weakness, but a hidden strength. Individually they were good. Together they were the best.

Which is why she tried her ear bud and her phone and even the little spy camera before she gave up and slid out of the air vent into the open room. No alarms went off, and there were no sensors that she could see. Not even the faint ozone scent/hum of hidden laser grids. Just her and the doohickey still sitting by itself in the middle of the room. “Oh this is bad, so bad,” she told herself. 

Parker mentally ran down the options she had. Simply walking over and picking it up was the worst one, so she rejected it. Wile E. Coyote could have rigged a dead drop above it and she wasn’t the Roadrunner. 

So instead she reached into her bag of tricks and pulled out the flexible steel cable she sometimes used in harnesses or lead lines. The loose end she fashioned into a flimsy lasso before tugging the rest out of its reel. It took her a few tries, but eventually she got the lasso to go over the doohickey. 

She waited, to see if any other alarm would go off or trigger a thing. Parker started to reel the cord in, but stopped when a door opened up out of a solid white wall. There was nothing beyond the door, just the same wall. But a door was hanging there, seemingly stuck in the center of the wall. 

She was still puzzling that out when James walked through the wall and into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss my big chapters. so much to get through! :) Oh, and the lyrics at the beginning were from The White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane. Rather trippy song about Alice in Wonderland. 
> 
> The con Hardison mentions is The White Rabbit Job, Season 5 Ep 12.


	10. Hollow in Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning, this chapter doesn't quite follow linear timing, due to the writer's need for pacing.

Seeing Parker was a relief, even if James didn’t understand why she had a rope around the thing in the middle of the room. Natasha walked through the wall behind him, into the fifth room they’d discovered this way. Shocks were still pinging up his arm and his hand was white, the color of the projection on this side. 

Parker stood up, her face stony. He couldn’t blame her. This whole situation was right out of one of Hardison’s sci-fi movies. Anything he said now would be suspect, except for maybe, “Bunny.” 

She relaxed, her shoulders falling back as she replied with “Corn dog.” Two things that he figured only Hardison and Eliot would also understand. Leaving Natasha to follow or stay as she wanted, he circled around to her to hug Parker tightly. “How did you get here?” Parker asked.

“Natasha. She logged back into Shield after I talked to you and centered in on this,” he replied. Natasha had gone around the other side of the room, scoping out the thing in the center of the room. “Who else is here with you?”

“Eliot and Sharon are searching for whoever’s in charge. I was supposed to retrieve the doohickey. How did you go through the wall?” Parker was still touching him, to make sure he was real. He felt the same way about her.

“Holographs. We found five different rooms hidden behind them.” He raised his hand, where the white was still fading back into skin tone. “Found out by accident, when this interfered.” He didn’t mention the electrical shocks that the sleeve gave him for the misuse. Fitz, however, would get a full report the next time they talked.

“Huh.” Parker looked up at him thoughtfully, then over at the silver box in the middle of the room.

“Anyone taking odds that it’s real?” Natasha murmured. She was staring at it too, but her gun was still in her hand. 

“Yeah, that’s why I was going to use the rope to pull it out of place, see what happened then,” Parker said, picking up the slack again. “But I’m glad you two are here. Especially if we’re being set up like this.”

The three of them watched as the rope tightened slowly. Parker paused before it tightened around the silver alloy block. Before she could actually move it, the lights went down. “Fuck,” he swore, reaching out to touch both women to reassure himself. Then the lights came back up, blinding him.

~ ~ ~ ~

Eliot felt like they had gone completely around the building, maybe twice, without finding any one or seeing anything else besides empty offices and empty corridors. Twice they’d heard approaching footsteps, but just like before, they had shifted and faded away down the hall behind them. 

“I really don’t like this,” Sharon said, turning to look down yet another hallway. “Wait, that’s different.” She pointed down the hall where a wood door was standing open. Or it would have been, if it hadn’t been part of a solid wall. 

They both went over to it, Sharon keeping watch while Eliot inspected it. He tapped it which meant it was a real door, and it moved. He glanced at Sharon, then tried to put his hand on the paint. It found only air, even as it appeared to sink through a solid wall. “Right. I think someone’s trying to pull an Order 23 on us.” 

Sharon quirked an elegant eyebrow at him. Eliot felt wary towards her, because there were elements of her stance that reminded him of both Sophie and Tara. Excellent grifters who knew their attraction and strengths. “What’s an Order 23?”

“It’s a con we ran to trick a mark once, with sound files and other manipulations. We didn’t have holograms though. This is so very Star Trek.” They had used them in the White Rabbit job, but he didn’t say that aloud. He didn’t like to think there were drugs messing with their perceptions. Or wandering around in a ‘Dreamnasium.’ 

“Next Generation, the holo deck, right?” Sharon smiled, then winked. “If you see Captain Picard, don't get in my way. Why did they leave the door open then? Another trick?”

“I don’t think so. They wouldn’t have shown us the hologram still in place. Someone else opened this door. There’s open space on the other side, or at least, I didn’t feel anything in there.”

“Well, I’m thinking that if they’re hiding doors like that, then what we’re looking for is probably behind them. Shall we?” Sharon shifted, turning to face the hidden doorway.

“Absolutely. And if I can find the server that’s running the projections, we can turn them off too.” Eliot felt his pockets, then grinned when he found one of Hardison’s virus drives. 

“I’ve got an extra gun, if you want to go armed,” Sharon offered, shifting to reach back for it.

“Nah, I don’t like guns.” He winked, then went through the doorway. 

On the other side, it was a much different kind of room. Grungier than the clean white and beige that the corridors had been, making him realize that they had been too clean as well. 

There were signs of occupation here too. Stray belongings, cords from wall sockets leading to tables, empty soda bottles, and take out containers were all over the place. Together they poked through the stuff, but didn’t find anything interesting.

Sharon started tapping the wall as she walked around, and they both heard the thunk instead of thump when she found another door. It led out into a clean hallway. She left that door open too, then started tapping the wall again. 

They went through two offices like that, ending up out in the hall to continue tapping for doors. 

Eliot found the next one, and it was locked. Not that it mattered. He might not be as good as Parker at locks, but the day he couldn’t pick a simple tumbler blindfolded was the day he retired.

This time the hidden room was much more rewarding. It was still empty, but there were diagrams pinned up everywhere and glass walls looking into a server room. “Bingo. Hope Hardison’s ready for this.” Eliot went into the next room and plugged the thumb drive in. 

“Eliot, over here!” Sharon called. She had found the security feed already. “That looks like Shield, Barton leading.” The screen she was pointing at had a squad of seven suited fighters, guns ready except for Clint who carried his trademark bow at the ready, arrow already nocked. 

“You see Parker anywhere?” He asked, flipping through the screens. The big empty room wasn’t coming up yet.

“Would I? If she’s in the vents,” Sharon let the statement hang in the air. She was right, of course. But Eliot was gambling on the fact that Parker would take her time if she knew she had it to spare.

“—RKER! ELIOT! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Hardison’s voice came through loud and clear finally, for the first time since Eliot entered the building.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you, pipe down!” Eliot turned his relief into irritation at the volume of Alec’s relief. “Found the servers, plugged a drive and my phone in to give you a connection.” 

“And it’s coming through beautifully, thank you Eliot. Where’s Parker?” 

Eliot was still flipping through screens, but all of them showed the sterile white halls they’d been wandering through. “She went back to get the doohickey we came for. She’s in the air vents. I’ve got Carter with me.” 

“Well if your comms work, maybe mine will to?” Carter stepped to the side, messing with her comms a little. On the screen he saw Barton pull to a stop. 

“And Carter’s in touch with her people, telling them about the holograms. Are they running it off of these servers?” Eliot stepped away from the screen, looking for the cables leading in and out of the room.

“Yeah. Nifty little program, but nothing protecting it from me. Listen, to kill the holographics, I’m gonna have to recycle the power. Everything’s about to go black.” 

“Carter, Hardison’s about to cycle the power,” Eliot repeated. He listened to her confirm with the Shield agents, then everything shut down. The computers gave off a little residual glow as they powered down, but his cell phone gave off a better light to watch Carter with. Either she was as good of an actress as Sophie, or she was honestly as upset about this situation as he was. 

When the screens rebooted, the security system activated the way it should have. Multiple doors were open down dingy hallways and finally people were visible, including three in a room that looked to have been a breakroom at some point. Now it was completely empty except for a projector camera in the center, a rope around it leading to Parker, James, and Natasha Romanoff. “I got them, thanks Hardison.” 

“Hey, you got me in the door. We’re a team, Eliot. Always. Now get our girl outta there. You’re not as alone as we thought.” 

The monitor flipped. Coming in through the loading docks in back were a stream of black suited fighters, each carrying guns and behind them, a woman who moved with authority. Thin, lithe, and aware, sweeping everything with a vicious glare. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Natasha’s eyes narrowed when the silver block turned out to be a projector instead. “Dammit, we were played good.” 

The girl Parker reeled in her cord, then stopped to touch her ear. Her comms must be working, Natasha realized. “We’re not alone. Eliot and Carter found the server room and uploaded Hardison’s virus into it.” Her eyes hardened as she looked at Natasha. “Your people have a team in the building, and there are Hydra coming in through the loading docks.” 

Both of them looked to James then. His face was pale, and he was staring at Parker with a helplessness she’d never seen before. “If they…”

“They won’t!” Parker cut him off. “Hardison! James doesn’t have his earbuds. Put the static through mine, I’m giving them to him.” A pause, then. “Just do it Hardison, I have my cell phone!” Then she was pulling out the earbuds to give them to James. 

He looked at Natasha, his face apologetic but his calm from earlier was returning. “They put static in so that if someone says a command, I won’t be able to hear it. Or you.” He winced as he put the little plastic coms into his ears, then signed [It’s safer.]

[We need to leave. Now.] Parker signed, pointing towards the easternmost door. She grabbed James by the arm and started towards it. Natasha fell into her comfortable rear guard stance to follow. 

The door in front of them opened to reveal Spencer and Carter. Two more fighters to fill out the unit, Natasha thought. 

Behind them, the door they’d already come through swung open, with a dozen suited and armed agents swarming through. Natasha walked backwards to keep an eye on them. 

“остановить!” Rang out from behind them. A woman strode through, smirking behind a fall of red hair, green eyes as familiar to Natasha as the ones in her own mirror. 

James looked at her, and she could see the hope rising in his eyes. She shook her head, grimacing a little. This wasn’t Yulianna. Just someone worse.

“Natalia, I’ve hoped to be the one to catch up to you.” The woman who strode into the room was smirking at them, walking in an exaggerated strut, her red hair almost a mockery of Natasha’s. She was pulling off gloves as she walked towards the projector. Once the gloves were off, Natasha could see how badly the skin was scarred and puckered. 

“Irina,” she acknowledged, stepping forward. Somewhere in the building, Clint was trying to find them, she knew. “Looks like you recovered, finally.” 

“Yes. But you won’t. And then we’ll finally be even, traitor.” Irina snarled, pacing forward even faster. “And then both the Soldier and the Hawk will be mine. Tell me, do you think your little bird will scream as loud as the Asset does when we wipe you out of his head?”

“Trust me, you won’t like the results half as much as you think.” _I’m sorry Clint_ , she thought, throwing the first Widow’s Bite at her opponent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> остановить! Russian for the imperative to Halt, with emphasis. Courtesy of my Russian learning, goalie friend. 
> 
> Order 23 again was S2E3, while the White Rabbit Job was S5E13. :) 
> 
> Okay, I got a big bowl of popcorn! Hit me with it!


	11. Fighting Fire

Between the buzzing in his ears and the random shocks from the sleeve, James was developing a hell of a headache. [You should go] he signed to Parker behind him. [Find Clint]. Natasha’s denial had hit hard too. He’d only had a daughter for three hours and the need to protect both of them burned deep enough to counter the pain.

Across the room, the dozen or so agents had semi-automatic rifles aimed at them, but they weren’t shooting. The two women fighting in the middle of the room were all over the place. It triggered memories of training, of himself with other Soldiers, or with the Widow trainees. The woman was familiar, he realized. From the Red Room. She had trained with Natusik, he remembered. One of the things that had drawn him to Natusik was that she was intelligent, but not bitter and vicious like this girl had been. Irene? Irina? 

Parker shifted behind him as he had hoped, and slipped out of the room. Eliot and Carter shuffled a little to hide her movements. A shower of plaster hit the back of his head. A warning shot. There were men moving around the edge of the room now, coming closer. James sighed, then started tugging at the sleeves of his hoodies. He really didn’t want to rip them up if he could help it.

Another shot flew past him, and he could see the lead agent’s mouth moving. Probably telling him to stop, or one of his commands. Eliot tapped his shoulder, shifting to allow James to step back. He didn’t. Carter had her gun out, covering him from behind. The whine in his ears grew a little louder

He turned his eyes back to Natusik to watch her. The two women were evenly matched, blocking and countering the other’s moves. It was a ballet, one whose steps he had known and taught to them both. 

The holographic sleeve came loose just as the first agent was reaching for him. The silver of his hand started to shine even as he pulled it free. The constant feedback in the back of his head lessened, and he registered the relief he felt, but pushed it away. The agent was shouting something at him, his hand movements becoming more insistent. James growled and flexed his fingers, making the plates slide back to reveal Hardison’s latest addition. He raised a single glowing blue finger to poke the agent on the forehead. “Shut up.” 

The icer worked perfectly, dropping the man to the ground. _This just might be fun._ He stuffed the sleeve into the pocket of his top hoodie, then charged forward.

~ ~ ~ ~

Sam watched helplessly as the fighting became an all-out brawl on the screen. No one moved outside the building, which creeped him out even more. “Hardison, I don’t think you should stay here. I’m thinking that they’re already on the way.” Barton had reacted instantly to the name “Irina” when Sam had relayed it. 

“No, you’re right. You coming with me? Skye, you got control of the feed now.” Hardison was keying something in before moving up front to the driver’s seat. “Eliot, get Parker and James and get the hell out. Go north. I’ll circle around and pick you up.” The hacker gave Sam a wide eyed look and a nod. “I’m trusting you guys.”

“We’ve got more agents coming. Just go!” Sam slammed the door shut and stepped back, slapping the power button on for his wings to extend. 

Hardison was barely halfway through the parking lot when shots started ringing off the back of the van. Sam pushed off the ground and pulled out his own guns to lay down cover fire from the air. “I’m never going on another simple op ever again!”

~ ~ ~ ~

If Natasha brought up Budapest ever again, he might just shoot her himself, Clint thought. The hallways and walls made sense now, after the holograph system was off. He sent agents down each corridor they passed, but he was going to the break room. He would NOT let Irina mess with Tasha any more. This time, he was going to roast the body himself. 

“Hostiles outside now, reinforcement ETA nine minutes,” Sam’s voice rang through his coms. In the other ear, he could hear sounds of fighting and Eliot cursing in three languages. That was interesting.

The next turn he took ended up with Parker smack in his face. Literally. No time for apologies, she simply grabbed his arm and took off back to the fight. Fine by him. 

The room was a mad house of fighting. Irina and Natasha were everywhere, trying to get the upper hand on each other. Eliot and Carter were paired up against a handful of agents while James prowled around the edge, reaching for the face of anyone he could get. There were already six bodies on the ground.

Fine, they had the agents occupied. He wanted Irina. His fingers hit the code for a poison tipped arrow and he lined it up, waiting for his shot. The last time he shot this Widow, it had been with an explosive tip to the hand, and she’d obviously survived that. He wanted the throat this time. She was wearing too much body armor for a chest shot. 

Natasha knocked Irina’s head back with an elbow, giving him the perfect opening. To his surprise, Tasha yanked the other woman out of the way, letting the arrow hit an agent behind them.

“We need her, Clint!”

“Tasha, what the hell!”

~ ~ ~ ~

Steve frowned when Alice touched her ear and pulled back, her free hand raising a fingertip in the air. They had been discussing James, of course, getting to know him a little from Alice’s point of view.

She looked back, frowning deeper. “There’s been a situation. Eliot and Hardison are talking about a raid and Hydra. It sounds like they’re in trouble.” She bit her lip, then added softly. “James is with them.”

He was on his feet before he knew it. Rebecca had the lancer in her hands, moving up to join him. “Can you take us there?”

Alice nodded, then led them out of the back of the restaurant to her cab. The sign on the side said Lucky Star. It felt like an omen.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Clint kept trying to land an arrow to help her, but Irina was trickier this time. “Word is, Loki already softened up his mind. Shouldn’t be that hard to get in there and get everything he knows cleaned out.” 

Natasha grunted and flipped her, jabbing hard as she could. “If you think he won’t be avenged just because I’m not there, you are so mistaken.”

“Right, your fancy, big name friends. We have plans for Rogers and Stark too.” Natasha went flying from a well-executed twist, but she landed on her feet. “Once we finish them, we’ll get our hands on Maximoff. She should have been ours from the start! AAGHH!” 

An arrow sunk itself into Irina’s thigh, throwing her off balance. Natasha grabbed at it to drive it through, twisting to disable her. Irina screamed again, but chopped down hard onto Natasha’s wrist, driving the bracelet of Widow Bites into her own skin. Fire danced across her nerves, allowing Irina to flip them both around to face Clint. 

Natasha still shook from the multiple shocks, but the knife at her throat and the fist in her hair had her full attention. “There. This is where I need you. So you can watch both of them fall. Bring him in!” 

A third door opened on the side. Natasha watched in horror as Captain America in full gear walked through. The shield flashed, smashing hard into Clint’s astonished face, before bouncing off of James’ arm and back to the Captain. Clint fell as a mess of boneless limbs to the floor, arrows clattering as they slid out of the quiver. A soft whimper escaped her, and she couldn’t tell if the tremble was still the shocks to her system or everything else. 

Irina forced her face around to watch James. “I’ve read the records. I know where you came from. Out of all of us, you actually had a daddy dearest. Is that why he favored you, every time they brought him to us?” 

James visibly shook, standing in place. His head twitched randomly as he fought hard against the impulse. Natasha knew his file by heart. So did Irina, it seemed. All the other agents still standing pulled back. Spencer was reaching out to him, but his hand was batted away. 

“Take him!” Irina ordered, digging the knife a little harder into Natasha’s throat. Captain America started forward, flexing his fist. The shield was dull, paint flaking a bit. That was wrong. He walked wrong. It wasn’t Rogers. 

She tried to yell, to warn James, but it was too late. His face was shuttered and his jaw tightened as he pushed off to meet the fake Captain and slam him back through the door.

~ ~ ~ ~

Parker watched everything happen from the air vent. Her little spy camera was still in place, recording the whole thing. When James took Captain America through the door, she doubled around and slid through the vents to follow. 

The Captain was down, feebly trying to fend off the Soldier. Just the sight of the uniform had been enough to trigger the imperative. Parker slid down from the vent, watching closely. To her horror, the ear buds were still in place, still blocking all sound. Including the pounding feet of agents coming down the hall. 

She could already mentally hear Eliot and Hardison both yelling no in her head, but they weren’t here. She was. So she took the one chance she had.

The Captain’s face was a bloody mess. She couldn’t recognize anything when she jumped onto James’ back. He roared, grabbing for the arm wrapped around his throat and turned to slam her against the wall. 

She still managed to pull out one of the earbuds. “Красная книга!” She hated using any of the phrases, but at least his was one he’d shaken off before. Eventually. 

He froze beneath her, letting her slip to the floor. “Готов выполнить.”

“Soldat,” she gasped. The footsteps she had heard revealed themselves to be a squad of Hydra fighters, guns coming up immediately at the sight of them. “RUN!” 

James squared his shoulders and charged directly into the fighters. Parker leapt for the vents, even as shots rang off the walls around her. She barely had time to wonder where she just told him to run to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Красная книга = Red Book  
> Готов выполнить = Ready to Comply.
> 
> Oh what a lovely mess we have. *ducks and hides*


	12. Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG YOU GUYS YOU GUYS!!! The Job Between Here and There broke 500 kudos. I can't even!!!!

Sam had gone higher once Hardison was out of the lot, since one of these goons had a spot light. Two of them were trying to break into the Shield van, but the AI security system wasn’t having any of that. Lights flashed and insults in three languages were audible to him even at this level. Sam knew that everyone missed Jarvis, but Friday? She was all right.

“Falcon, this is Jackson. Hawkeye’s down! Be on the lookout for Barnes, he’s on the run!” The feed came through clear, but there wasn’t enough information in that status to make sense. And this was one of Coulson’s people. They actually communicated.

“Say again? What’s going on in there?” Sam swung around to the back, the loading dock door swinging a little. 

“They had a fake Captain America. Brained Hawkeye with a fake shield before Barnes snapped and charged him.” Jackson paused and he could hear the sound of her Icer pistol firing. “Natasha’s down, but still fighting. It looks like another Red Room Widow.” 

Sam cursed to himself. “There’s another squad outside, I can’t land right now. I’ll track Barnes if I catch sight. Tell Parker and Spencer their friend Hardison is in the clear.” He pulled his goggles down tighter and ducked away from the spot light, flicking through the different settings that Stark had loaded them with, trying to find one that would not get him blinded if the spot light caught him.

On the south side of the building, he saw a single person in motion. Running, and heading away from the building. Sam folded his wings and dropped down behind them. Long hair bounced off his shoulders. A stray light post picked up the purple streaks, confirming his guess.

“Jackson, I’ve got eyes on Barnes. You said he snapped?” Sam tapped for magnification. Whatever was going on in James’ head, it wasn’t slowing his feet down.

Jackson didn’t answer. Sam growled, tapping at his earbud to flip to bluetooth, calling the third number in his call list. “Steve, we have a situation here. Found out what that chatter was about. Hydra’s here.” He summed up the night quickly, keeping his eyes on his target.

James was slowing down. A car was parked by itself out here, and James seemed familiar with it. He was inside it, and had it hot-wired in the time it took Sam to circle around. 

“What the hell, Sam?” Steve’s voice crackled in his ear.

“I don’t know Steve, but I think your boy has gone full Soldier.” Lights flashed as James pushed the car to the limit, streaking out of the area at a speed Sam didn’t know if he could match. “I’m following, but I think I might lose him. I lost contact with the team.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“NO! GO GET HIM BACK!” Irina screamed at the agents staring dumbly out the broken door. The knife shifted, just enough. Natasha slammed her hand down on the arrow in Irina’s thigh at the same time as she rocked her head back into Irina’s face. And then they were rolling again. Natasha came up on top, blood trickling down her throat but she was still breathing.

It was so hard to remember that she couldn’t kill this bitch. She could, however, pummel her face as hard as her tired muscles could go. She had said they were going to wipe him again. Irina knew where another chair was, possibly even a lead to Yulianna. 

She must have seen James being wiped before, or video of it. She knew someone who could operate the machinery, knew it’s tricks. The intel in her head was too valuable to just throw away right now. “I just remembered something Irina.” Natasha wrapped both her legs around the other woman’s waist to flip her, then brought both her fists down on the woman’s ribcage. “You have lousy bone structure.”

Irina coughed, gasping for air. Natasha reversed and threw a hard roundhouse to the jaw to knock her down for good.

Around her, the fight was dying down. Most of the Shield agents that Clint had brought in were down too. Sharon was sitting against the wall, a strip of cloth to her cheek. Spencer had picked up the fake shield at some point, and by the look on his face, he was having way too much fun learning how it balanced against heads and faces. Natasha knew that feeling. The real thing was a dream to use. There was another agent following him, using Spencer as interference to shoot blue icer rounds over his shoulder. The two of them were clearing the room and heading out into the hallway where James had disappeared.

Parker was sitting on the floor, cradling Clint’s head in her lap. 

Natasha crossed the distance with a flash, sliding down beside them. “Clint!”

“He’s out cold, but he’s breathing okay,” Parker said, watching warily. She had stopped the blood, but there was still a pretty nasty gash across his forehead.

“Where’s Grant?” Sharon asked. She didn’t move, and the way she was sitting looked awkward to Natasha, the way broken bones made one uncomfortable. 

Parker didn’t look up, still rubbing at Clint’s shoulder. “I used a control word, I told him to run. I don’t know where he went.”

“My comm is out,” Sharon said. “Tasha, can you use Clint’s? Or will that mess with the hearing aid?”

“No, it comes apart.” Natasha said, reaching to carefully ease the hearing aid out of place to pop the bud out, then just as carefully put the aid back into place. Not much phased Clint, but he really hated waking up somewhere strange without all the senses he would expect to have. Once more she cursed Loki, even as she put the bud into her own ear.

“DAMN! Who taught this guy how to drive!”

“Sam, is that you? It’s Natasha, are you following James?” 

“Natasha! Everyone okay in there? Your back up is dealing with the Hydra in the parking lot. And yeah, I’m trying to keep up. Me and the Seattle PD as we… Woah holy shit! Uh, your boy is going to be on national news based off this chase.” 

“Yeah, this whole mess is gonna cause Hill to scream at all of us. Where is he?” Natasha gave Parker a reassuring nod.

“He just rolled a police cruiser over and through the five to ninety exchange and now he’s heading west at oh, faster than my wings go?” 

“Well shit.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Eliot walked back into the dingy break room to find Parker cradling Barton’s head, while Romanoff was directing things through her earbud and phone. He did a last round of the room, the Shield agent that had fought with him still at his elbow as they sorted Shield from Hydra. She even smirked when he punched each Hydra fighter to make sure they stayed out. 

Then he took a real look at Parker’s face. She was staring at him with her uncertain face, tear stains tracking down her cheeks. Eliot gripped the shield tighter as he stalked over to her, going to his knees beside her. “Are you hurt? What did they do?” 

“No, it’s James. I had to... I had to use the words. And now he’s gone!” Parker turned to burrow her face into his shoulder, shaking as she cried silently. 

“Sam’s following him, or rather, following the aftermath. I think he’s got my car,” Natasha added.

Eliot groaned, touching his ear bud. “Hardison, did you hear that? Get to work.”

“Uh, no. Excuse me! I’m still driving too!” There was more muttering and cursing, then directions aimed at someone else, not Eliot. He snorted, shaking his head, then kissed Parker’s forehead. 

“Guys? I hear someone coming through the hall.” Sharon’s voice was low, but she was digging her gun out again. Eliot reluctantly let Parker go to pick up the shield, bracing himself to act as a battering ram if he had to. 

The tip of a lance poked through the door first, electricity dancing along the glowing edge. The shield he held was good steel, but it’d melt in a heartbeat against that. 

Then the rest of the weapon came through, held by Rebecca. She sighed in relief and straightened up, flicking some switch on the lance to turn the pulsing energy off. “Hey guys, we heard you could use a little back up.” 

Behind her was Alice, bouncing on her toes and looking around first with excitement, then dismay at the litter of bodies around the room. “Woah.” 

Bringing up the rear was a very tall man with dark hair and a dark beard, someone he didn’t remember meeting yet somehow, he looked familiar. “Natasha, hey.” The stranger went to her side, running his hand over her ribs. “What happened?”

“Steve? What the hell! You were supposed to be in Dallas!”

Steve shrugged, shifting to check on Clint. “Ran out of patience.” 

Eliot was suddenly ashamed of holding a badly made replica of Captain America’s shield when Steve Rogers looked up at him and grinned. “Hi. That looks good on you.” 

“Comes in surprisingly handy,” he replied, resorting to his usual growl to cover up his embarrassment. 

They both tensed and looked towards the door when more footsteps sounded. Rebecca’s lance thing was loud in the silence when she activated it. Eliot really wanted to see what it could do.

The first person through the door was a short, balding guy familiar to everyone. “Okay, who wants to explain first?” Coulson looked around, an eyebrow arched at the mess. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Natasha glared across the table at Irina. The Russian was leaning back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling, smiling to herself. It irritated Natasha that she was able to sit so calmly. But she held her tongue, reading everything on her tablet, making Irina wait. 

Coulson had done his usual trick. He’d read the future months ago, which meant he had a fully operational base in Seattle for them to retreat to. Everyone was being checked out in medical, especially Clint. Jemma promised he’d be waking up soon. Hardison had tapped into Skye’s system from here and was tracking everything they could find about James on the run. Natasha was tapped into that from where she sat.

The car was found abandoned in a parking lot along the western shore of Lake Washington. All that meant is that he’d found a different means of transportation. 

Parker refused to say anything else about the trigger phrase they’d used, but Hardison knew it, and promised it was one that James would eventually shake off. He just didn’t know when or how long it’d take without Parker to counter it. Natasha wanted to ask so many questions, but she held her silence, retreating back to patience, no matter how much it annoyed her.

Natasha sat up as the door opened as Jemma and Rebecca entered. Behind them, Coulson waved for her to join him in observation. The two women carried a silver case each, along with their own tablets. 

Across the table, Irina was starting to sit up straighter, face going blank just as they had been trained. Natasha smirked as she got up. “Have fun, ladies,” she murmured to all three as she stepped out of the room, Rebecca taking her place. 

“This way,” Coulson said, opening the door to the observation room. Steve was already there, pretending not to be a storm cloud in human form as he stood watching, arms crossed and glaring at Irina. “Jemma’s handled interrogations for us before, and she seems to have a good rapport with Miss Barnes.” 

“Who picked Rebecca to run the interrogation?” She stepped over by Steve, rubbing his bicep a little before crossing her own arms.

“Me,” Steve said. “And she asked. She’s gotten pretty close to Tolya.” 

In the room, Rebecca spoke first, her voice crisp and factual. “Irina Sergievna Alkhimovich. Born in Tula, Russia, daughter of Svetlana and Sergei Alkhimovitch, both loyal Red Army operatives. Born March 18, 1967. Mind if we skip all the boring bits after that?” Rebecca smiled and put down her tablet, folding her fingers together and presenting a calm face. “We’re more interested in where Vasily Karpov might be these days, since you seemed to help choose the subjects who went into his Winter program.” Jemma was opening the case and setting out tiny little vials filled with various colored liquids and a syringe next to each one. “Bringing Anatoli Vassiliev out of the cobwebs has been a fascinating process, since each time he recovers a new set of memories, they seem to involve you heavily.”

Irina was breathing harder, eyes on the needles and vials, all training wiped from her face. Of course Rebecca would have learned this. For someone out of the game, she had startling insight, her cousin. The one thing Irina would fear, the truth of how she turned people into volunteers. 

Natasha grinned to herself as she checked her tablet for a status update on James, then leaned forward to watch. Beside her, stone breathed in the form of Steve Rogers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?   
> Earwigged myself though. whups. 
> 
> But yes!! I didn't expect 500 people to even READ this. I'm all verklepft! Oh wait, that's the next chapter. *runs and hides*


	13. Day Break

Dawn found the three of them on the road home. Eliot drove while Hardison cuddled Parker in the seat behind him. What she would take from Alec was different than what she’d accept from him. He was the same way though, so he was quite happy to let her take comfort where she would. 

Parker didn’t speak until they were entering their apartment across the street from the restaurant. Eliot was making space for the fake shield, distracting himself by thinking of how he’d fix the paint job when she spoke up. “I’ve been trying to think of where he might go, and I’m just drawing blanks.”

“Here, let’s just curl up on the couch. I’ll tap into the Shield system and my own and we’ll just use the cameras to make our own search, okay?” Hardison offered. Parker just nodded, ignoring the look that Alec exchanged with Eliot. 

“I’m going to close the restaurant for the week. Gotta clean up the mess anyways and I don’t feel like doing it today,” Eliot said, going into the kitchen to whip up a quick breakfast while Alec got set up.

They ended up in their favorite configuration, tangled together in the super long blanket Parker had bought for them. Alec was in the middle because he was most comfortable there. Eliot was leaning in on his left shoulder, his arm around the small of Alec’s back to touch Parker on his right. They took turns suggesting places, then Alec would pull up the screen to search, but they kept coming up empty. Although the back door to the Top Pot donut shop close to the Seattle Center had been torn off the hinges. That was a good sign, Eliot thought. Ever since they’d met him, James had found it hard to pass up iced donuts. 

An hour into their search, Alice’s number popped up on the screen. Alec answered it on the speaker. “You really should be asleep now, you know.”

“You too, but you’re doing the same thing I’m doing. Trying to figure out where he’s going. I got an idea and I need Parker to meet me if I’m right.” 

Parker sat up straight, leaning forward. “Where?”

“It’s Thursday,” Alice said. “It’s James’ day to pick Stevie up and take him to school, then pick him up in the afternoon.”

“I thought they moved Annie and Stevie to a safe house though,” Eliot said, but he could see where she was going.

“Yeah, but would he remember that? I’m going over to the old apartment with Steve and Rebecca. He insists on going. Parker?” 

Parker was already grabbing her keys and anything she thought they’d need. “I’ll meet you there as fast as I can.” 

“We’ll keep searching, just in case,” Alec said softly. He already had the apartment hallway camera keyed up in the corner of his screens. “No one’s there yet.” 

Eliot kissed Alec’s cheek. “I’m going with Parker. You tell us if you see anything.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Images swam through his head, just like they had ever since he was given his order. His feet still moved, even though the streets were starting to fill with people. The blue hoodie he wore on top had some sort of logo on it, but he hadn’t stopped to look at it.

He was still processing the fact that he was a he, not an it at the moment. And he had to be somewhere. A short blond man was telling him to come home in his head. But the last image he had that was strong was his handler screaming at him to run. 

He was too tired to run now. He had kept to the stumbling pace for an hour, it felt. 

The sun was up.

A series of images involving sunrises flickered through his mind, and he managed to keep one to the forefront. The smaller blond boy at his side as they walked to school.

He went to a school. He was going to be late. 

They were going to be late.

Who were they?

He stopped behind a grocery store, pulling out his hands again to look at them. There were bits of brightly colored sugar caught between the plates of his left hand. He lifted it to lick at them, trying to get every last bit of taste from them.

The wind caught the back door of the grocery as a man came out, puffing small clouds of breath. “Hey! What are you doing there! Get outta here! Or I’m gonna call the cops!”

He ran again. 

#

The buildings were familiar. He skirted around the first one, staying in the shrubbery behind #5. People came and went, and he could hear the voices of children going to line up for the school bus. He was so late.

A group of people passed by and he slipped out to walk behind them. They were going past the right building, and took no notice when he turned to go up the stairs to the door. 

Inside was a welter of noise. People were working down the hall, shouting over saws. It took him a minute to realize the “thump thump thump” he heard was not a gun with bullets, but a gun with nails.

He seemed to know a lot of things. Like turning the other direction to go to the stairs. The stairwell was empty, as was the hallway above. People were still on this floor. He could hear them through the walls, their voices just soft murmurs as he slipped like the ghost he was to the right door.

He had a key. It took him a moment to dig out a key ring out of his pocket. It had a dozen keys on it. He had to stare at it for a minute to remember which one to try first. 

When the door swung open, all the voices stopped. There were three women in the room. The only one he recognized was his handler. Relief flooded through him and he took a couple steps forward before standing up straight. Waited for orders. 

“James? Can you answer me?” the Handler stepped forward, reaching out to him. James. That was his designation, right?

He fumbled for the words. She spoke in English, but what came out was Russian. “Affirmative. Mission complete?”

One of the other women made a soft sound. It wasn’t an order or directed at him, so he ignored it. He did allow himself to evaluate her for weaknesses. Curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her hand was pressed to her mouth as her brown eyes watched him, some sort of liquid coming from them. Was he to interrogate?

“Mission complete, James,” Handler said with a soft voice, coming over to his side. She took his arm and led him forward. “Sit down.” 

He sat down on the couch as she ordered, barely hiding the soft sigh of relief from the pain in his feet. They had allowed him to become soft. Handler sat next to him, while someone else came in the door and shut it behind him. This was a fighter, his broad shoulders and stance said so, but he stood guard by the door, eyes on Handler, waiting for orders. James strove to emulate him, pushing himself to sit up straighter.

“No, it’s okay James. You can relax. Mission report?” 

He let himself fade back into the comfort of the sofa, reporting his actions since she had given her last order. He looked down at his hand, flexing the plates of it again, discovering more bits of bright sprinkles. Sprinkles, that’s what they were called. From the donuts. 

Someone else moved into the room. Their heart rate was high, and breathing irregular. He sat up straighter. “I’m late.”

“No, you’re fine James. You’re right where you need to be.” 

“But the school.” He frowned, looking across the room where the boy should be.

There was a man there, and he was the tallest person in the room now. His face was obscured by a dark brown beard, but his eyes were blue. Blue. Gold and sunshine and blue. “Stevie.” 

The man stepped forward. He was wearing a lumpy knit hat. He stared until Handler rested a light hand on his arm. “James, you need to remember now. I’m going to let you shut down, then you’re going to wake up in five minutes and remember, okay?

“But _Stevie..._ ” he protested. He was going to be punished. He was late and he was arguing. He couldn’t stop. 

“Exactly. Stevie needs you to go to sleep, then when you wake up, you’ll remember, and it’ll be okay. Commence shut down, count of fifty, confirm.”

“Shut down, count of fifty, sleep for five minutes, confirm. But Stevie…” he tried, even as he started to count.

The bearded man had stepped forward, crouching down across from him. “It’s okay James. I’ll be here.” 

His count reached ten. “Stevie,” he confirmed, blinking, then slumped backwards when he reached shut down.

~ ~ ~ ~

Parker had tried to warn him, the shut down process was necessary, but painful. Steve hadn’t realized how painful until he turned to find something to punch. He paused when he realized Eliot was watching, remembering where he was. Eliot just nodded at him, jaw set and ready if he was needed. Steve nodded back, then calmed himself down and turned to watch the others again.

James looked rough, but Steve remembered times that he’d seen him look worse. Parker and Alice both were dabbing at the blood, trying to see if there were still any cuts underneath them that still needed attention. He was as limp as Clint had been, but he’d done it to himself. _Stevie_. The word echoed in his head, dragging him back to 1930’s Brooklyn. 

Eliot crouched down to the side of him, watching James’ face. “If he comes out remembering, he’s going to recognize you. Sometimes I can hold him back, but not always.”

Steve looked sideways at Eliot in surprise, his eyebrows going up. He kept his voice steady as he answered. “If he remembers, then I’m running. Straight to the river, until I can shake him.” He paused until Spencer nodded back at him. “If he’s like Vassiliev, then he won’t stop. Parker won’t be able to trigger anything, can’t override anything. Only the Hulk could stop him, I think, and Bruce is not talking to us anymore.”

Eliot nodded slowly. “Then maybe I can slow him down some. Buy you a minute to get around a corner or something.”

“I think he’ll be okay,” Rebecca countered. “He saw you, he recognized you when he came in. That’s encouraging to me.” She stood behind them, arms crossed over her chest. Bruises were blooming along her cheekbone from the tussle last night, but her eyes were still bright. None of them had any sleep, and it was showing. 

“The last time with Tolya,” Steve started, then let the statement float.

“The last time Tolya saw you, it was unplanned and we hadn’t prepped him. Tolya also doesn’t have the reason to fight it that James has, or the willpower to go for it. James has been going for it ever since he pulled you out of the river.” Rebecca ruffled his hair, shoving it forward into his eyes the way she always did. It comforted him, helped him center. He knew that she knew it did as well. 

James’ feet twitched, then drew back. Parker moved over in front of him, obscuring his view but she wasn’t a large woman. He could see knees and elbows, a little motion. The sleeve of the Rangers hoodie drooped down over the silver wrist, fraying from being caught and twisted between the plates. “James, c’mon buddy, wake up for me.” 

A long slow groan filled the room as James shifted. “Parker? What happened? My head…” 

“Do you remember anything about last night? The office building?” Parker asked. 

“I remember being with Natu… Natasha. Then going to help you. There was a woman.” He paused, and around Parker’s hip, he could see James rubbing at his skull with both hands.

“Irina. She was Red Room. They tried to trigger you with a guy wearing a fake Captain America costume.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember that.” Steve started to shift, then paused. “It made me so mad that they would do that. That they would hurt Clint.” Steve smiled to himself in the pause after that. “Then you said something.” Another soft groan. It was easy to imagine James digging the heel of his hand into his eye just like he had when they were kids. “How’d we get here? I thought Annie and Stevie were at a safe house?” 

“It’s Thursday. I told you to run, but I didn’t tell you where to. But you still remembered it was your day to pick Stevie up.” Parker’s voice was warm, the approval running deep in her words. 

James laughed, then he sat up, gasping. “Steve! I remember… was it Steve?” 

Rebecca spoke next. “He’s here, he’s in Seattle. You think you’re ready for this?”

“No.” Eliot shifted a little, tensing but nodding in response to some motion he couldn’t see. “But I wanna try.” 

“Okay.” Parker’s voice was steady, then she stepped aside. 

There were still blood streaks along his cheekbones, but it wasn't his. The blue and red Rangers logo on his hoodie distracted him for half a second, but it was his face that brought Steve to his knees. 

James’ eyes were wide, just as they had been the last time they’d been this close, on the helicarrier. Ripples of emotion showed in their dark blue depths, ripples that flowed across his face. Then he was on his knees too, reaching across to touch the bristly beard with his left hand. “How? I can touch…” 

Steve reached for him, touching the hand on his cheek. “I don’t know. How did any of this happen? Maybe it’s just all you.” The metal was cold beneath his hand, but steady. “I’m real. This is real. You’re still you.” 

James laughed softly in amazement, his face as open as when they had been kids. Steve felt the same way, incredulous that this was finally happening. He reached up to touch James’ cheek gently, then ran his fingertips through a purple streak of hair. “Oh Bucky,” he whispered. 

Something hit him in the center of his chest, driving him across the floor to bounce into the wall. Arms squeezed down on him as he slowly became aware of James on top of him, shaking hard and gasping. 

Steve squirmed a bit to see his face, caressing the cheek he’d been missing for seventy plus years. Had been denied for two long years. “I’m here. Remember what you said? This isn’t the end of the line, pal. You’re stuck with me now.”

There was a bark of a laugh against his ear, and he laughed too. “Who picked that line?” James said, his voice cracking a little.

“You did, you jerk.” James was shaking hard against him, but somehow Steve knew it was relief, not an inner battle to keep himself together. So he finally gave in to hug back as hard as he could. His cheeks were wet. His tears? James’? It didn’t matter. 

“Now that was kind of anticlimactic,” Alice said, dropping down into the sofa with a yawn. Rebecca laughed, which broke the tension in the room. 

“Can we go home now?” James whispered against his ear

“Whenever you want. But I’m not going anywhere without you,” Steve promised. He squeezed even harder at the thought, but then, so did James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll knew that was coming, I know you did.


	14. Third First Kiss

There were too many people in Parker’s comfort zone right now. The three boys, that was good, but she still didn’t know if she could trust Rebecca. She was still Shield, even if James claimed her as family. And Steve…

They’d spent the past two years treating him as dangerous. But now he was here. And James was okay. 

Truth was, James was more than okay. He had held hands with Steve in the back of the van. Steve looked like James was holding the sun and moon. It reminded her the first time she and Alec had talked Eliot into staying the night with them. Oh. OH. 

She twisted to watch them again. James was… different. Was it because of Steve? Or was it because she had to trigger him again? There were always little personality shifts when that happened. And not always for the better. 

Well if Steve did end up being around more, she was going to have Eliot talk to him. 

For now, Alice was going home. Rebecca was crashing out on the couch. James was disappearing into his apartment with Steve.

“Ya’ll can come home now. I’m going to be asleep by the time you get in the door, I swear.” Parker smiled at Alec’s exhausted irritation, looking at Eliot hopefully.

“Yeah, sleep sounds good. We’ll figure out where to go later.” He was looking down the hall, frowning at the closed door. But his shoulders were relaxed, and the frown was his thoughtful one, not needing to punch something one. That was a positive thing in her book.

“Yeah. Hope Kaleb will forgive us for having to rethink his job.” Parker hated admitting defeat. But Hydra had set this all up. They were gonna have to go to Nathan Ford levels of evil now. 

“Okay. I lied. I can’t sleep without you two. Now get your asses over here!” 

“Pushy pushy!” Parker muttered, turning to lead Eliot out of the office. “We’re on our way home, Alec.” Eliot’s hand was warm in hers. James was safe, for the moment. The job had gone south. But she always had options as long as she had her boys.

~ ~ ~ ~

It wasn’t exactly how James had planned this. If he HAD planned, he might’ve cleaned up. But Steve was here. Here, in his little apartment, and his brain wasn’t telling him to do things. Well, it was making lots of suggestions, but nothing like before. He’d have to talk to Doctor Garner about that.

The moment he opened the door, Malaya launched herself at him. She was very vocal, complaining about being left alone with an empty bowl. But she licked at his ear and leaned against his jaw while ignoring Steve completely.

Steve. He couldn’t stop staring at him, and from the look on Steve’s face, the feeling was mutual. They hadn’t talked much, but James had been able to hold his hand, lean into the strength of Steve. Luxuriate in the feel of being able to touch again. Whatever it was that tripped him up about touching other people didn’t seem to apply to Steve. His friend was still wearing the lumpy red hat, and James decided he liked the way it looked. The beard? Not so much.

“I ah, I need to apologize for something,” Steve said, once the door was shut and Malaya had been mollified with attention. “I uh, came in here last night.”

James stared at him. “Why? I mean… How did you get here?” 

Steve actually ducked his head and flushed. They were standing in the middle of the living room, just watching each other at the moment. “I wasn’t supposed to be here, in Seattle, I mean. So after Rebecca called Shield to come get the guys who tried to kidnap her…”

James couldn’t help it, he growled at that thought. His own brain had kept him away from his family too long for someone else to take them away. “Yeah, I know. She’s good though. She can handle herself. But Alice brought me upstairs to hide while they dealt with that and I uh…” Steve was actually red. James reached up to touch his cheek, smiling at the warmth he felt.

“You had to see. I broke into your place in DC, while they had you in the hospital.” James paused, looking at Steve in surprise. “I forgot I did that!”

“You were there?” Steve stepped closer, stopping when Malaya protested from James’ shoulder. “You know, she was a lot friendlier last night.” 

“She doesn’t like Hardison, but she’ll tolerate him if no one else is there,” James blurted, then laughed. “She’s kind of possessive. Doc Garner thinks she’s acting like a therapy animal.” 

Steve blinked at that, then looked at Malaya in respect. “I’ve met a few people with dogs like that. I didn’t know cats would do that too.”

“She helps me focus. Keeps me from going too far into my head.” _Speaking of…_ “You were here last night?” He turned and looked around the apartment, at his experiments laid out everywhere and the mock up they had created of his hand to figure out the Icer mods still taking over the table. There were dirty dishes all over the sink, clothes spread out. He’d become comfortable in his solitude here. Messy.

“Yeah. You didn’t tell me about the fish tank. Or that you still like Cary Grant.” Steve was turning shy now, pulling away. 

James reached over to catch his hand, marveling at the feel of the muscle and being able to just touch. “Just got the fish last week.” He moved to the cat tree, letting Malaya walk over onto it, pulling Steve along behind him and reaching to turn off the light in the tank. It was still early morning, so the apartment was dropped into shadows, allowing the glow of the fish to come out even stronger. “They’re zebra fish. They’ve been genetically modified to be florescent. I was studying the DNA changes in them.” 

“You and Rebecca are going to have so many conversations that I’m not going to be able to keep up with. She’s been studying DNA in her serum exploration,” Steve said. His voice was soft, but different. It took James a moment to realize it was fondness, the same tone that Alec or Eliot used when they talked about Parker sometimes. 

“Yeah? Okay.” It might be fun to compare notes. See if she could explain things he’d worked so hard to get to. “Why is she studying the serum?” He thought of what he talked about with Natusik last night. Had she told Steve yet? He didn’t think so.

Steve pulled his hand away from his to rub at his stupidly still crooked nose, making the room colder even as it heated up from the intensity of the blush now hiding behind Steve’s hand.

“She uh, she had a theory. If she could deconstruct the serum, she might be able to break the hold that Hydra had on you and Tolya. She thinks the programming in both of your minds might be connected to the changes they made physically because of the serum.” Huh. James hadn’t thought of that.

“Maybe. The serum is definitely the reason they were able to do that with the machines.” He didn’t want to say it aloud: how they survived the experimentation. Other enhanced people had not, nor had just normal people. The chair was a death sentence to anyone else. The thought made him shiver.

Steve stepped closer, both his hands going up to James’ shoulders. “You okay? We don’t have to talk about this right now.” 

He could feel the pressure on his left shoulder, but his right could feel much much more. James nodded, then looked up into the blue eyes. The beard threw him off, and the lumpy hat looked ridiculously cute. He found himself smiling. “Stevie. You’re really here.” 

“Yeah, James, I am.” Steve smiled, but there was a cloud crossing his face, pinching his brows together and darkening his eyes. 

James reached up to touch the beard again. “I’m okay,” he said, trying for reassurance. “I’m just… processing still.” He smiled, then licked his lips, pulling away and looking at the kitchen. “C’mon. I process best with food.”

#

Between the two of them, with James renewed appetite ready to make up for lost time, they pretty much cleaned out the food available in his kitchen and in the office kitchen too. Steve let him take control of everything, the choices, the cooking, the conversation, and the cleanup. James hadn’t put the holo sleeve back on yet, and Steve even kept the glances at the metal hand to a handful. “Who are you and what did you do with Steve Rogers?” he asked, handing a dripping plate over to be rinsed and dried.

Steve cracked up, shaking his head. “I’m still kinda me!”

“No you’re not. You haven’t argued a single time since I woke up to your face!” James smiled, a little wider every time when it happened around Steve. His hands were still in the dish water, a memory trying to wiggle free now that he’s relaxed. 

Steve shook his head, putting the plate down. “No reason to argue. This… this is nice, being here, with you.” 

Something in his brain pushed. There was a script his memory wanted him to follow. He lifted up his right hand, turning a bit to flick soapy water at Steve.

Steve froze. The towel in his oversized hand started to twist as he turned to look at James again. The confusion on his face must show, because Steve’s face is crumpled up, like someone just yanked on his hair.

James put his hand down in the water again, then just as slowly flicked water at him. Droplets of soapy water went all over his face. 

“James, what…” Steve started, but James just shook his head again.

“Don’t. Just… let it,” he said softly, turning to look at the water again. 

The next step isn’t his, somehow he knew that. And so did Steve. That huge hand was light on his shoulder, pushing just enough to let James know there’s pressure before dropping away. 

James reached up to repeat the motion, pushing at Steve carefully. Like he was a grainy dusty image that would blow away. The angle was wrong. Steve’s too tall, but somehow James just knew this is right. 

Steve pushed back, a little harder, then all of a sudden they’re both shoving at each other. More water flew into the air, and that towel turned out to have wicked teeth when it was twisted and flicked at his thigh. It felt right, and both of them were laughing when James danced away, turning to look at the door. Something else was supposed to happen. Malaya sat in the doorway, calm and unimpressed by their antics.

“Usually by the time we got to this part, we’d be laughing and yelling and Rebecca would stand in the door, calling for your Ma to come keep you from killing me,” Steve said softly. 

“I remember,” James murmured softly. He gasped and grabbed at the counter to keep from falling on his ass, but he was laughing. “I remember!”

“Got to the point that she’d never let us wash dishes together.” Steve was smiling, eyebrows raised up to wrinkle his brow properly. 

James turned to him, feeling the tears prick at his eyes but he didn’t mind. He reached up with a wet hand to caress Steve’s cheek, turning a swath of beard dark with the water on his hand. Then he was leaning forward.

Steve’s lips were chapped, but warm. A firestorm of memories exploded in the back of his head at the touch. Bending down to do this behind Longo’s soda shop after their dates had stood them up. Thousands of times bending down to touch those soft lips, only sometimes chapped, or cut, or bruised. Always eager to meet his lips.

Another memory. England. In the empty barracks, when he finally let himself believe this big over muscled beast was really his little Stevie. The mouth was bigger and plumper, but still kissed him the right way. Like they belonged to each other. 

Now the kiss was soft, hesitant, but with a promise of a hunger being held back. James felt that hunger building inside him and pressed more into the kiss, pushing it deeper.

Steve opened up for him with a soft groan and suddenly James found himself surrounded by heat as thick arms wrapped around him to hold him close. His own arms were tight around Steve’s waist. It didn’t matter which one was trembling, they both shook together.

It was the together that was the best part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll. YA'LL! I've had this bit plotted in my head since the second fic. Even I'M mad at me for the stupid long slow build. My apologies? posting two chapters cause you guys deserve it. 
> 
> Cause now we take the last turn and head for the finale. Hope ya'll still got your stress balls handy!


	15. Morning After Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bolding bits that are run by Hardison's speech to text program.

“So, as we stand, Janda’s flown the coop, Shield’s busy working over their newest Hydra delivery, and we got nothing to work with for Kaleb,” Hardison summed up gloomily. He really didn’t cope well with interrupted sleep schedules. He also didn’t do well with curve balls sneaking past them like Irina had.

“The Avengers Initiative already has three teams out based on the information we’ve gotten so far, and we’ve only scratched the surface,” Natasha countered. She sat on the far side of the room, across from James. If Hardison was more awake, he’d be able to figure out those weird vibes.

“I’m surprised you and Steve are sticking around if that’s true,” Rebecca murmured. She was sitting next to James, still looking up every now and then with a surprised look of awe. Steve was on the other side of him, sharing a basket of breakfast rolls with James. Hardison was aware of a strange little frisson off the pair. Neither had said anything

“I’m currently off assignment. This’ll be a good test of their contingency plans if I decide to stay inactive.” Steve’s voice was firm, but he had the same look of awe on his face. Unlike Rebecca though, Steve couldn’t seem to take his eyes off James. 

“And I’m assigned here, to James until the trip east is accomplished.” Natasha’s voice was firm. “Sharon too.” 

“Ditto,” Rebecca said, finally getting the nerve to reach around James for a roll. He jerked back a bit, only for a second before he smiled and held the basket to her. Huh, this was new. 

“Okay fine,” Eliot growled. “Since our con is blown and we don’t have any other jobs right now,” and he shared a look with Hardison and Parker to not say anything about that, “Maybe we could look into that. If you want.” Now he was looking at James, his head cocked a little.

James withdrew into himself a little as he realized everyone was looking at him. “I want to. I just... Can we take a day or two first?” His eyes slid sideways to Steve, making Hardison turn to hide a smile. He keyed up a couple queries to explain turning his back, then realized his Where In The World Was Steve Rogers program was beeping at him.

“Yeah, yeah we can,” Eliot answered for them all. Parker was still silent, but he could hear her shift a bit. Hardison turned to check on her, catching her eye with a quirked eyebrow. She shook her head just a little. No, she still wasn’t all right after last night. 

Time to distract then. That’s one thing he’d always been good at. “What exactly was that contingency plan you mentioned?” Hardison pulled up video coming from London. It was obviously an Avenger’s team, since it was accompanied by one of Tony Stark’s Iron Man suits. There were several squads of agents on the ground, and one was led by a very familiar suit and shield. But it was just as obvious that the body inside the suit was NOT a Steve Roger’s clone. SHE was about half his size, over all.

The Steve sitting in his workshop was smug as he answered. “That’s Maria Hill. Captain America can’t disappear. But who says it has to be Steven Rogers in the suit?” 

The figure in the suit definitely knew how to command. And it was just as obvious that she had the trust and confidence of the figures behind her as they fanned out.

Another prompt beeped at him, so Hardison split the screen. This time, the feed was from Los Angeles, and the figure in the red, white, and blue was just as obviously not Steve Rogers. The wings stood out for a mile.

“Sam, Maria, Sharon, and Natasha all have agreed to step up when it’s needed,” Steve said, shrugging. “We’ve had the suits made for months now. And they’ve been training with the shield with me.”

“You sure that won’t cause a panic, that you’ve disappeared without a reason?” Parker finally spoke up. She was sitting in her usual chair, but with her feet up and arms wrapped around the knees pressed to her chest. 

“Pepper Potts has had the PR ready ever since we had the suits made. Officially, I’m taking a sabbatical to deal with the fall out from my best friend turning up as a prisoner and tool of Hydra.” The look he gave James was apologetic. 

“Steve has a hard time admitting when he’s hurting, so it’s been a pleasant surprise,” Natasha added, her words just this side of being sharp, but somehow they were still warm.

James snorted, rubbing at his face. “Now that’s nothing new. The rest of it?” James sighed now, still hiding his face in his hands.

“Hey. None of that.” Steve tapped gently on James’ head. “You always yelled at me for taking the world on my shoulders. I still am, I’m just,” and he shrugged. “Sharing.” 

Something else beeped at Hardison, just as one of the phones started ringing. He turned, not really believing it, but he pointed at Eliot. “Answer it! Just do it! It’s Janda!” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Parker watched as Eliot answered, his loud brash Texan persona splattering everywhere in ways that Sophie’s covers never had. Nate, though, Eliot played more like Nate. 

“Yeah, this is Charlie Gibson.” A pause, Eliot’s eyes going to the screen that Hardison was pulling up. “Well hey there Mr. Janda, I’m glad you called.” 

Hardison’s tracing program also had a text relay to help them follow along. **I was hoping I’d catch you before you left for Alaska. I’ve been thinking about that investment proposition you gave me last night. The paperwork your secretary sent over is very intriguing. You’ve got my attention.**

“That’s why I’m glad you called. We decided not to head up to Alaska. We’d rather go home and look over the options. Fracking’s starting to get played out. Especially with oil prices so low.” 

**I’m leaving town too. But if you’re interested, I think perhaps you should come to New York. I’ve been looking over the next auction from Sotherby’s and there’s some Pre-Columbian art that’s very interesting.**

Immediately another screen pulled up the list of auctions in the next month, sorting itself immediately to the type of art and artifacts they’d built the con on. Natasha stood up and walked over to look at it, frowning to herself.

“Well it’s been a spell since I’ve been to New York City. All them alien artifacts kinda bother pops, if you know what I mean.” Eliot was rolling his finger, turning to Parker and mouthing a question. Yes or no?

Parker nodded. An idea was percolating in her head. Maybe the con was salvageable after all.

“Tell you what, Mr. Janda. I’ll speak to pops and if he’s not up for the trip, I might just join you myself.”

**Please do. I’m sure there are more sights than just an art sale that will interest us both.**

“Oh and then some. I’ll speak to you soon.” Eliot hung up, watching Hardison and Parker expectantly. 

“Yeah, yeah I can see this. Might need some back up,” Hardison said, ideas already flying through his head, but Parker shook hers, grinning at her boys.

“For this, I think we need to bring out the big guns.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

It was hard for Steve, just watching. Bucky and his three friends had pulled away, going into the apartment and leaving Natasha, Rebecca, and himself alone. Natasha was wandering around, looking at what was sitting out but not touching. 

Rebecca was staring at him, a little smirk hiding in the corner of her mouth. “What?” He asked, almost dreading the reply.

“You two reconnected, huh?” The smirk was starting to grow.

Steve couldn’t help it. He smiled back, flushing a bit. “If that’s how you want to describe it, yeah. I guess.” 

“Well, I know I fell asleep in here on the sofa all alone, then I woke up to you two making googlie eyes at each other over breakfast food.” Rebecca grinned, nibbling at the roll she’d stolen earlier.

“Seriously? Googlie eyes? Who even does that?” Natasha asked, coming to sit in Eliot’s empty seat. 

“They did,” Rebecca replied, laughing softly.

“I’m regretting ever letting you two become friends.” Steve groaned, rubbing at his face. The beard itched. He needed a shower. He wanted to be next to James for the next 70 years, making up for the last 70. 

“Shoulda told me that she was scary before I met her,” Natasha said, laughing and finally grabbing one of the last rolls. “You were so adorable and protective of her. I never had a chance to be wary.” She shrugged gracefully, despite her mouth being full.

“I’m starting to agree with Sam that my life has too many scary people in it.” Sam had asked once, what he would do with a quiet life. Now that James was here, there were a lot more answers he could give to that question.

“Cheer up Steve. At least now James is one of those, oh so very scary people.” Rebecca smiled, a lot softer this time, and winked at him.

“Yeah. Yeah he is.” And Steve didn’t even try to hide the love he felt just then. 

Natasha pointed the half roll she still had in her hand. “Okay now that? THAT is scary.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“So yeah, the con will work. The question is, how much does Janda know and how will Hydra play him?” Hardison asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. James sat on the chair next to the cat tree, cuddling Malaya as he listened.

“He either knows everything or nothing at all. But I think this plan Parker came up would work either way. It’s got a lot of flexibility in it.” Eliot gave her a fond smile. 

Parker shrugged. “It’s what Nate would do. Has done, when he had to go all evil.” 

“There’s one more question, no, two questions” James piped up. “How much are you willing to let Shield and the Avengers know and how will you use them in this plan?” 

“That’s going to be your job. You keep them distracted and out of our hair until we need them,” Parker replied. She sat on the ledge of the cat tree next to Malaya, swinging her feet.

“I can do that. I think. I’m not used to taking all the attention though.” 

“Steve can help you with that,” Eliot said. “I bet you can let him in on all of it and he won’t share a thing until we say it’s okay.” 

James nodded at that, scratching at Malaya’s ears. “Then I guess we’re going to New York.” 

“Not yet,” Hardison said. “That auction isn’t for another two weeks. We’ve got time to clean up loose ends here.” 

James smiled, sitting up a little straighter. “I can get them out of your hair so you can do that, if,” and he paused, looking over at Eliot shyly. “Can I borrow the cabin? I’ve got an idea.” 

“All yours, brother. Just remember the house rules.” 

“Don’t blow up the building and respect the cooking knives, yes sir.” James saluted, grinning at the three of them laughing. 

“All right, let’s get to work,” Parker said, hopping down and rubbing her hands together. “This is gonna be fun again!”

Hardison waited until she had gone past him and into the workshop before muttering, “I hate it when she gets excited like that.”

“Cheer up Hardison.” James lifted Malaya to his shoulder, then wrapped the other arm around the hacker’s neck. “I’m the one who gets to play house with the Avengers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Maria Hill doesn't get enough screen time and she would LOVE flinging that shield around. Sharon too.  
> Also, extra cookies to those who get the joke about House Rules. ;)


	16. Family and Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a bad tagger. When I introduced one of my plot wrinkles, I forgot to add implied non-con/never shown to the tags. Because even though I'm never going to go there, it's still implied. My apologies.

When the meeting broke up, James found himself with Natasha, Rebecca, and Steve. Eliot gave him one look in question, but James waved him off. He should be able to handle this by now, right? Besides, he had his earwig in and he knew Hardison would have one electronic eye on the proceedings.

“So uh, Steve and I cleaned it out up here, but if you wanna go downstairs, I can put together something, if you’re hungry?” He held Malaya to his chest, mindful that Natasha had kept plenty of space between herself and the cat. “Or if you’d rather go sleep. It’s been a weird day.” 

“I’m good with ordering pizza,” Rebecca said with a yawn and a full body stretch. “Wasn’t the worst day I ever had, but yeah, food and sleep and deal with shit tomorrow.”

Steve frowned, turning to look at her. “What kind of shit? And what did they do with that other Widow?” 

“She’s still at the base. Jemma’s still working her over. Yanno, for a big bad Russian spy, that woman has a horrible fear of needles.” Rebecca smiled wickedly, winking over at Natasha. 

“Yeah, well, most people don’t get to pick their phobias,” Natasha replied. Her voice was a little stuffy, and she kept rubbing her nose. 

“You okay?” James asked aloud, but his hands flashed a subtle question. _Have you told them?_

She shook her head and signed no at the same time. “I have a slight cat allergy. Makes me all stuffy and sneezy.” She moved close enough to find a Kleenex but then moved back away from the cat. 

“That sucks,” Steve said, his hand going to squeeze James’ bicep. “Especially since I think she’s going to New York with us.”

Just the thought of leaving her behind made James cling a little more. He ducked his head down against hers to hide the blush. But he knew Steve saw it a little. 

“She can always stay in my place,” Rebecca offered. “I have a room in both the tower and at the academy, if she’s willing to stay there.”

“Oh, no, it’ll be fine. Zyrtec usually clears this up,” Natasha said, right before she sneezed. 

“We’ll get some today,” Steve promised. James nodded, digging out his phone to text Hardison and ask if he kept any here.

“I’ll be okay,” Natasha said, her voice dropping with a harsh edge to it. 

James looked at Steve and made his own voice as deadpan as he could. “That sounds familiar. I think I remember that.” He did. Part of him wanted to put Malaya in the other room and go coddle Natasha. The other half wanted to draw back and ignore any weakness Natusik was showing, trusting her to deal with it. 

Steve only rolled his eyes and looked away, but the corner of his mouth curled up. 

“Hey Natasha?” Rebecca’s voice was soft, and she wasn’t looking up from her phone. “You might wanna look at this. Jemma just sent me the last transcript.” James wasn’t good enough at reading faces yet to cypher the look the two women traded. Rebecca was nervous, maybe. She was biting her lip with her skin drawn tight, and she looked everywhere but at James. 

Natasha looked at the phone and scrolled a bit before sighing. “Well it’s not the first time that little secret’s been told.” 

“It’s true?” Rebecca asked, eyes going wide, and James thought maybe a little hope floated in their brown depths. 

Natasha looked up, nodding at Rebecca before turning to him. “Irina knew. She just tried to use it for leverage, about us.” 

“Oh,” he murmured, turning to watch Rebecca. His niece, great-niece, turned to walk away, laughing softly and wrapping her arms around herself, before looking back at Natasha in awe. 

“I feel kinda left out now. Do I get to know the juicy details? You two what? Trained together back in the Red Room or something?” Steve was smiling, and he was pitching his words to be teasing, but his eyes creased a little as he squinted at them. 

“Steve, you’ll always be my friend, you know that, right?” Natasha asked, laying a hand softly on his arm. 

Immediately he tensed, and James had to bite back a laugh. Natusik was giving him a gift, showing him her relationship with Steve. “Yeah?” Steve said warily.

“And I know how much you hate secrets. This one I didn’t even know myself, not until last year. And I didn’t even have proof until recently, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Nat, you’re doing this on purpose. Just say it.” Steve had turned to lean against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“Fine. I’m a good enough hacker that I faked my date of birth. I was really born in 68. Yes, James trained me when I was in the Red Room. But that’s not it.” Natasha looked at him, one eyebrow quirked, asking if he wanted to be the one to say it.

“She’s the result of experiments they did on me. I don’t remember them yet. Might never, thank god.” Malaya mewed a little, turning to put a paw on his cheek. Obediently he loosened his arms up but he didn’t let her go. 

He couldn’t look at Steve to see if he understood. Instead he snuck a look sideways at Rebecca. She was sitting on the couch, jaw slack as she watched them in amazement. But there was still a spark of hope there. Maybe she’d be happy to claim Natasha as family?

“Biologically, yes, he’s my father, Steve. Take a couple minutes to process that. Then we’ll tell you about my sister!” The last bit was said lightly. 

Voices went dead silent in his ear. The other three knew as well. At least he didn’t have to have that conversation? Now James could take a peek at Steve. He looked as shocked as he had in London, when James had finally gotten to explore the changes the serum had made in his boyfriend. 

“Daughter? Oh fuck. DAUGHTER! Fuck fuck goddamn mother fuck.” Steve pushed away to pace up and down the floor. It reminded James of Hardison when he was having problems processing something Parker had said or done. 

“Well, he’s as eloquent as ever,” he blurted to Natasha. She smiled in that way that made him think she was laughing. 

“It’s a little complicated, James. He’s processing the fact that he’s kissed us both.” Her words were soft, but there was still laughter. Over on the sofa, Rebecca had dropped her face into a pillow to muffle her own reaction. 

“Kissed you? Or you kissed him? Cause he’s about the slowest on the uptake there ever was.” 

“Well to be fair, we were on the run at the time and I needed a distraction. You remember how to hide in plain sight still, right?” 

In between curses, Steve paused to throw out “And she’s never let me forget it either.”

Rebecca finally sat up, looking at them, face flushed. “So you’re my cousin?”

“Yeah,” and now Natasha turned shy. Oh. It hit him finally, she had never had a real family. Would she want one? “Is that okay, you think?” 

Rebecca’s answer was to jump up and run over to hug Natasha tightly. James was the recipient of a startled look, but slowly she returned the hug. “Of course it’s okay! Grandma already loves the way you tease Steve.” Then Rebecca pulled back, biting her lip. “When you’re ready to tell her, of course. I think out of everything, she’ll mostly be happy that James does have kids after all.” She shot him an apologetic look. “We’ve all been prolific.” 

Steve had finally found something of the conversation to pull up and cling to. “You said sister? Is she like you?” He paused, then said disgustingly, “It’s not Irina, is it?”

Natasha laughed and shook her head. “No, she’s not my sister, beyond the Red Room. Come on, let’s go downstairs and get something to eat. You’re gonna need a little something when I tell you about Yulianna.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

The streets of Seattle flashed by, his feet pounding hard as Steve dodged traffic and pedestrians both. His inner compass kept the restaurant as his touchstone, but he wound up and down streets in hopes of running out at least a little of the stress.

Natasha and James, father and daughter. That had been the curve ball that killed all the calm he’d been able to build up over this situation. Finally he could bring James home, without fear that his brain would turn some switch and put him back in Asset mode. Those switches were still there, but over the past 24 hours, James had proven to himself that he could control them now. That was a huge step.

He’d kissed his best friend’s daughter. Okay she kissed him, but it was still in the category of Not Fucking Right. Didn’t matter that it had enabled them to pass right under Rumlow’s nose. 

Okay so the real thing tripping him up was that Hydra had yet another thing to answer for. His stomach flipped but he controlled the gag reflex this time. Dinner had been left in a trash can about two miles from the restaurant. James still swore that he didn’t remember a thing about it, but just the thought of Hydra manipulating his body in such intimate ways made Steve’s blood boil. He hadn’t felt this way since he’d first realized what Hydra had done to his best friend. 

Was still doing to others. The four of them had agreed to find Yulianna no matter what it took, and Steve was committed to that. No one deserved to be treated like Hydra and Red Room treated their weapons. Least of all family. 

Steve wished he knew how Natasha was coping with this. They’d had a few talks about being orphans over the years. She had told him that her family had died in a fire and Red Room had plucked her out of an orphanage. That was the story they taught her from childhood, anyways. She’d had to find out the truth on her own. 

His next turn brought him to a waterside park. He wasn’t sure if it was ocean or lake at this point. Seattle’s geography was interesting, to say the least. But it was open empty space and he threw himself into it. 

At least he hadn’t been the last person to know, this time? Shield had always kept him in the dark, had used him for their purposes and directed his choices by directing what they allowed him to know. That had been the worst part of the whole betrayal. And probably why Coulson hadn’t told him they were back until after the whole Ultron debacle. Steve knew he was high maintenance that way. Bucky had always been the first to tell him that.

Bucky… James, he reminded himself forcefully. They had kept it secret but to be fair, they did tell him once they were together in a room without having to fight for their lives. He had to be honest with himself about that. 

Steve stopped at a water fountain, taking several long drinks before he realized his phone had beeped. Several texts beeped at him. 

The first one from Sam said simply _There’s a rumor floating around and if it’s true, just BREATHE. Don’t do that thing you do._

Second one was from James. _Behind the restaurant is a small loading dock, left over from when this was a warehouse. It’s our garage now. Come there when you’re finished sorting things out._

The last one was from Natasha. It was a long one, which was surprising. Usually she could get things done in three words or less. _I know it’s a shock. I found out when I was in free fall, right after the battle at the Triskelion. It messed me up, but you were still there. Determined to get him back. I borrowed your strength then. No matter what happens from here, I trust you as much as Clint. You two are the only solid things in my life. Clint’s truth is a lot more simple than yours, but that’s what you both have at your cores. Strength and truth. Thank you for sharing it with me._

On the water, he could see a ship navigating out into deeper waters. It was a cargo ship, so this must be the ocean side. The wind was picking up, and he realized he was hungry again. Surely there was some place he could stop on his way back to James. 

It was three blocks later when he realized that James was his home now. No matter what else happened from here, they were home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Steeb. It's hard being the brick wall you beat yourself against. 
> 
> And hey, best way to share a secret is to have someone else tell it, right? *halo*


	17. Interludes

Steve could hear several voices echoing through the garage. He’d followed Bucky’s instructions, going up a half flight of stairs into a large dock area. Part of it was obviously reserved for the restaurant, tables lined up and boxes of various things stacked neatly around them. But the rest of it was open, with two black vans, an old Ford pickup truck, a bright orange Dodge Charger, and several motor bikes, but the one that really caught his attention was a 1940’s Chevrolet panel van. Bucky had driven one just like it during the summer of ‘41, when he had a steady delivery gig. Steve had learned to drive with it, in Bucky’s off hours. Beyond the cars were more tables with jumble that made him think of Tony’s lab again. James was a busy guy.

Right now, the van’s hood was open with a pair of lights hanging over it, with a table full of tools pulled close. The entire front end had been pushed in and the bumper was under the table itself. Rebecca sat on the table, feet swinging as she talked to a little brown haired kid sitting next to her. He wore a familiar looking harness, holding a plastic copy of his own shield on the boy’s back. James was bent down, half inside the van’s engine compartment, making a loud metallic creak echo around the garage. 

Rebecca looked up as he stepped closer, waving a little then saying something he didn’t quite hear to James. He straightened up out of the engine, looking over, then smiled softly. Steve realized a few lines faded from his face, and he smiled back. “Sorry I took so long.” He held up the sack at his side. “But I got donuts?” 

James smiled wider, wiping grease off both his hands. “Is that my sweet tooth or yours that sent you there?”

“Both?” he asked softly, moving over to join the trio. “And who’s this?” He gave a little wave. Despite the beard and brown hair and contacts, it was obvious to him that the kid knew who he was already.

James smiled proudly, turning to ruffle the boy’s hair. “This is Stevie Gallagher, my old neighbor. Stevie? This is my Steve. You wanna say hi?” 

This, he knew how to handle. Every time he did a public outreach, there were dozens of kids looking just like this one. “That’s a nice shield you got there. Bet you handle it pretty well, huh?” 

The boy blushed and curled into the nearest person, which happened to be Rebecca. She grinned and wrapped an arm around him for comfort. “I promise he doesn’t bite,” she said. “He hangs out with my cousins all the time, you know. He’s lousy at Mario Kart.” 

“Hey, that’s a secret!” Steve protested, but grinned as the boy looked up at him in awe.

“You play Mario Kart?” Stevie asked in amazement.

“Yeah, and I’m getting better at it. But don’t play with Rebecca.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “She cheats!”

Stevie gasped and looked up at her in horror. Rebecca just swiped at the sack of donuts and muttered “I do not! I just know game mechanics!” 

James laughed, shaking his head as he leaned against the van. Steve looked over and gestured with a hand. “Where did you find this?” 

“Salvage yard here in the city. Some idiot drove it into the side of a building.” James offered him a bottle of water, which he took gratefully. “Go on, take a look.” There was a small smile hiding in the creases around his eyes. “I was just telling Stevie that we both learned to drive in one of these things.” 

“You’re just lucky Swanson took you at your word that you knew how to drive.” Steve took a drink to hide his laugh, then moved over to the driver’s side door. He looked back, cocking his head in question. James nodded his permission, so he opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat.  
The interior looked like it had been restored by a very careful hand. The back of the van had been covered in dense gray carpet, and the seats were covered in a gray leather that matched. “You know, this is a lot smaller than I remember.” 

“Bet you say that about everything these days,” James drawled, looking in through the open passenger side window. 

Steve laughed, flushing a bit. “Not everything.” He ran his fingertips over the steering wheel to distract himself. “This is nice. You do all this?” 

James shook his head. “No, but I’ll probably change a lot of it up, if I have time.” He was smiling, and Steve soaked up the sight. The last twenty-four hours had been just as stressful as they were wonderful. He’d learned to appreciate the quiet moments over the past few years, since before he went into the ice, really. 

“I’ll try my best to make sure you get it,” He promised softly. He looked over at the table where Rebecca was telling Stevie some involved story, complete with explosions. “Your friend, he staying the night too?” 

“For the evening, yeah. Annie’s gotten involved into city politics, protecting the apartment complex. She brings him over here a lot.” A small smile played on James’ face again, and his next words had a tinge of awe to it. “He lets me help him with his homework.” 

“That’s awesome. Considering I saw some of the homework Rebecca’s nephews have, and I don’t understand the method they use to teach math at all.” 

James laughed, then waved at him to get out, stepping over to the table. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs and watch a movie. Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day.”

That little Stevie ran over to hold onto his hand didn’t surprise Steve. The look of satisfaction on James’ face, that’s where he found the surprise. 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

“It’s only 950 meters,” Clint complained, checking his scope again.

“Then there’s the fog,” Natasha said, a note of amusement in her voice. They lay sprawled out in a sniper’s position across Eliot’s deck, sighting down the valley at the targets James had set up for them. 

Clint made a noise of disdain, making James think he didn’t consider it much of an obstacle.

“And you’re probably forgetting your concussion,” Natasha added, almost laughing.

Clint sighed, then turned to look at her. “Don’t make me turn off my hearing aids again.”  
James laughed softly to himself, taking up his own scope before looking at the video feed he’d set up down valley. Before he could line up his shot, electricity crackled from above his head. On camera, the bullseye developed a hole just to the right of center. 

Natasha came over to look at the monitor, whistling softly, then looked up at the roof. “Very nice shooting!” she said, saluting upwards.

Rebecca looked down at them, patting her lance. “I don’t miss Persephone at all, not since I’ve gotten the hang of Guinevere here.” 

“Wait, who’s Persephone?” Steve asked, putting down the binoculars he’d been using to track the shooting. He was sprawled out with his own gun next to Rebecca, but he was the only one who had yet to take a shot.

“My gun from Afghanistan. She was a TAC-50. Had a kick like an elephant but she could make an average car flip itself if I shot right.” 

James rolled to his side, looking up at her curiously. He knew the gun, although he didn’t test _how_ he knew it. “You name your guns after classical women?” 

“Classical women who made trouble. My training rifle in basic was Helen.” She smirked down at him, then settled in for another shot. This time, the blast took the entire half of the target off. Clint’s shot was just a second after hers, punching through the bottom half of the center before the target toppled over completely. 

“You know, I’ve seen a lot of shooting in my day,” Eliot growled from down range. “But you people are scaring me.” He stood several yards to the left of the targets, monitoring the cameras to keep the fog from soaking them too much. 

“Mr. Spencer, I’ve seen video on you,” Natasha murmured, settling in with her own gun. “I think I’d leave you to Steve, if it ever came down to it.” 

“Smart,” James said, even as they both took their shots at the same time. Their target already had several bullet holes around the center. Together they filled in the bottom portion of the smile.

Clint leaned over to look down Natasha’s scope, then muttered, “Showoffs.” James smiled at them, envying the easy comfort they had with each other. It rivaled the comfort between Eliot, Parker, and Hardison. He thought maybe once he’d had that before. He glanced back up at the roof, watching Steve look down the scope as well. 

“It’s gonna be dark in a bit. Deer are gonna be wandering in soon.” That was Eliot’s one rule. They could shoot all they wanted, as long as it didn’t disturb the local wildlife. “I’m gonna clean up down here.” 

James nodded and sat up, hands already working at breaking down his Barrett rifle, putting it into the carry sleeve it’d come with. It was new to him. Natasha had loaned it out from the arsenal on board the quinjet. “I’ll get dinner started then.” 

It had been his idea, bringing Steve and maybe one or two of the others down to the cabin to distract them from Hardison’s work. He hadn’t counted on Natasha bringing Clint, but he was glad she did. Sharon had stayed in Seattle to help out Coulson as a liaison, but there really wasn’t much left there. 

Steve dropped down quietly onto the deck next to him, then held out a hand. James let him lift him up to his feet, smiling shyly again. He was having an awkward day, as Eliot called them. Not necessarily a bad day, just one where nothing seemed to fit right. “I’ll come help you,” Steve offered, putting his unused rifle down next to the crate Natasha had brought along. 

James nodded, putting the packed gun down next to Steve’s, trusting Natasha and Clint to take care of it. They were busy chatting in their shorthanded ways. Above, Rebecca had rolled onto her back, watching the sky. 

Steve’s fingers caught his, tugging gently. James nodded and followed him inside, the silence comfortable for now. Before Steve had appeared in Seattle, he had been pushing, always asking, always reaching. But not since that moment in Annie’s apartment. Even here, he was relaxed, quiet, but usually watching James out of the corner of his eye. A stray thought gave breath to the idea that maybe Eliot or Parker had a word with his friend, but none of them were saying. 

It was quiet, in the kitchen, despite the chopping of knives and scraping of spoons. It felt comfortable. Just as comfortable as it was to turn and pull Steve in for a long slow kiss. Comfortable enough to leave the prep for the others to finish while they slipped out the other door and up into the trees to reacquaint themselves yet again. No one followed, although James knew for a fact that most of them could track if necessary. 

“Okay, I’ve found it,” Hardison’s whisper interrupted an hour later. “We’re set to go to New York, whenever you’re ready.” 

“Are you?” Steve asked softly, hands warm under James’ shirt. This close, he could hear easily.

He nodded, then smiled. “Yeah, I think it’s time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a heckuva fandom where fluff includes three assassins and a sniper having target practice and being cute, huh? Oh! but the '41 Chevy? I work in the type of industry where that crossed my desk this month. Of COURSE I thought of the boys. Have photo!  
> 
> 
> Yep, like Hardison said, next chapter's destination: New York City!


	18. In Motion

“Are we going to the Tower then?” James asked Natasha. Parker watched him closely, and let him know she was watching by not looking away. His face was drawn and he was crunching his mouth into a small line. Disappointment, because Sharon had gone in to check on Peggy, then radioed back that today was not a good day for them to visit. And maybe nervousness, because this took away his buffer from being forced into things. Malaya was curled up in his lap, relaxed and quiet. So he wasn’t too stressed out.

“We can, if you want, but,” Natasha turned in the pilot seat to look back at Parker, head cocked in a way that reminded her of Sophie. Parker had a lot of questions already listed to ask Sophie next time they talked, including that bit about how Natasha was related to James. 

Parker jumped a little as she realized that she was supposed to answer that question. “Uh, We’ve got our own place set up in Manhattan. We can go there, if you’re not ready to go to Stark’s,” Parker said in reply to that question. “It’s up to you.” 

Relief flooded through him, loosening his shoulders and straightening his back. Rogers was sitting next to him, still quiet. Parker had listened in on the conversation between him and Eliot about James. She wondered sometimes if he had that conversation about her. 

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go there first, if that’s okay?” James asked, slumping back in his seat, lifting Malaya up to drape her across his chest and cuddle. 

“Absolutely.” Natasha turned to the front again to handle the take off, speaking softly into her headset to someone about the landing. 

“Let me know where you’re landing and I’ll have Hardison meet us there,” Parker finally said, digging out her phone. Something about the quinjet blocked their comms, but cell phone signal was fine. Hardison was going to have a heyday with that.

She looked across the aisle at James and Steve. James had his eyes closed and head tipped back on the head rest. Steve pretended to watch Natasha, but his hand was pressed against James’ thigh. He had shaved off the beard and now he looked better, she thought. It was interesting to her to watch the way their relationship was developing. She filed everything as research. 

“Okay, so Sharon’s staying here, which means it’s just us four now.” The jet lifted into the air easily, much smoother than any commercial jet Parker had flown on. “I’ve got clearance to land in one of our smaller fields in Manhattan. It’s a re-purposed warehouse, so there will be a security detail. We’ll keep the jet there and when Sharon says it’s a good day to visit, we’ll have it ready for us.” 

#

Two hours later, they were walking out of the warehouse, Natasha in the lead, Rogers in the rear. Malaya proved to be the most vocal as she yowled her displeasure about the carrier she was in. She was already outgrowing James’ backpack. Only two men escorted them, down from the six that had reported. Rogers’ disappointed look was amazing. Another thing Parker was filing away to practice later.

Outside, there was a single van parked in the small lot. Hardison leaned against the side, playing with his phone. Parker broke ranks to go to him and hug him tight. “Hello baby girl. Miss me?”

“Always. Just like you missed us.” She smiled up at him, then pulled away to drop her bag in the back.

“New York’s been fun though. Found the best game store, even got something Eliot would want to play.” Hardison had come to New York first as the prep crew this time, securing Eliot’s hotel room as their front and a workspace for their base. 

“Hey Hardison, guess what?” She asked, bouncing to him for another kiss. “Steve said he’d go BASE jumping with me! Off Stark Tower!” 

Hardison made a soft groan, then he turned to face Steve. “I hope you love heights because she’s been wanting a jump buddy for years.” 

“Oh Steve has no problem with that,” Natasha butted in with a light tone. Her bag was in the trunk too, so yes, she was going with them. “He loves jumping out of airplanes, with or without a parachute.” 

Parker looked at him, impressed. That was one thing she’d never try. James turned and advanced on Steve, his face set and eyes dark. He didn’t stop until he had Steve pinned against the van. “No parachute? Really?” 

Parker snagged the front seat while Steve tried to talk his way out of that one. This could be a lot of fun.

~ ~ ~ ~

Eliot smiled as he watched Rebecca stretch out in her first-class seat next to him. In his ear, he was listening to the team get settled into their new base. Natasha was going over security with Hardison, while Parker and James explored. 

“You look happy,” Rebecca muttered, looking up from the comfortable nest she’d made.

He tapped his ear, murmuring, “I can hear them again. They’re in New York already.” 

“Mm wish we were. I miss being home.” She smiled back, although hers was a little regretful. 

Eliot smiled at that, then shrugged. “Home for me is wherever Hardison and Parker are.” 

Rebecca smiled, then yawned and stretched, sitting up to look out the window, even as she asked, “Can I ask you something? About James?” 

He nodded, then said, “Well, there’s some things I can’t answer, for various reasons.” 

She nodded, then bit her lip, thinking before she said anything. Eliot approved of that. He liked that in a person. “Each time he was triggered, did it seem like he threw it off faster? And that he was more complete once he’d recovered?”

Eliot started to answer, then leaned back to think about it first. “He’s much more together than when we first met him. I didn’t think he’d make this much progress, but he’s got so much determination in him. But yeah, he does seem to shake it off better, now. He also has personality shifts every time he comes out of the fugues.” He paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “He’s been learning how to cover when he slips. That’s Sophie’s training. She did a lot of hypnotic work with him before Dr. Garner took over.”

Rebecca looked thoughtful, shifting in her seat again. “We haven’t done much hypnotic testing with Tolya. Do you think your Sophie would talk with me a bit about that? Because I never see James slipping.” 

“Probably. I’ll give her a call.” Eliot turned a little more to her, feeling he owed it to James to ask. “What have you tried with Tolya? We could compare notes, make the flight go faster.” 

“Oh great idea! I hate flying,” Rebecca said, digging out her notebook. 

# 

Parker met him at the airport, dressed as a chauffeur and holding a sign with “Charlie Gibson” on it. The smile she wore was way more comforting than he’d ever admit aloud, but he figured she knew it. 

He’d said his goodbyes to Rebecca in the baggage claim, in case anyone was watching them. But now she came past him, striding right up to a short guy with thick curly hair to kiss him solidly on the lips. He grinned at the surprise on the guy’s face, but he was enthusiastic about returning the kiss at least. 

“Your car’s this way, Mr. Gibson,” Parker said softly, taking the handle of his bag to lead him out. Eliot took one last look at Rebecca and her guy, walking out the other way, hand in hand. 

He tipped his cowboy hat at her, grinning. “Right. Lead on. This is gonna be one fun trip!” He dug out his phone, dialing the number Janda had given them, turning on his loud cowboy charm. “Well hey there Mr. Janda!” He was loud and obnoxious, just like a couple guys he’d worked for as a kid.

“Mr. Gibson! I hope you’ve had a chance to make your plans?” Janda answered. He’d picked up, not a secretary. Eliot made a mental note to tell Hardison that this was a cell phone.

“Yes sir, just arrived at JFK. I’m heading on over to my hotel, but I thought I’d call and see if you wanted to talk over dinner.” He winked at Parker, who just rolled her eyes. 

“I’m already booked to have sushi with a couple of my clients, but I think they might be interested in your investment idea too, if you’d like to meet up with us?” Janda’s voice was just the same as it had been in Seattle, calm and collected, and without that little hitch they’d marked as a tell when he was thinking too fast.

“Actually I do love a good plate of sushi. Just tell me where to meet ya!” Eliot hung up after confirming the address, then he winked at Parker again. His nerves were jumping, making him bounce on his toes a little. A second chance at a failed con always gave him life.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Rebecca wrapped her arm around Cameron’s waist, sighing happily. “Missed you. Almost as much as I missed New York.”

“Glad to know where I stand then.” Cameron smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “This is okay?” 

She nodded, leaning into his warmth. “I’m tired of hiding everything. No need to now, I think. How is she today?” 

Cameron led her out the busy JFK terminal to an unmarked black car. “She’s good. Getting antsy. Beth’s been staying with her a lot.” Cameron grinned, holding the door for her. “They’ve been trading stories about you.” 

“Okay maybe introducing you so early was a bad thing,” Rebecca grumbled, sliding into the car and greeting the driver. He was another person she knew from the Academy. 

“Maybe for you, not for me,” Cameron teased as he slid in beside her. “I’m getting all sorts of great stories about you!” His laugh was cut short by the poke in the ribs Rebecca gave him, but she grinned as well. When she’d gone to the Academy at Steve’s request, she’d been focused on the science and the problem at hand. Meeting Cameron hadn’t been part of the plan, but hey, she was adaptable.

“Yeah well, Sharon told me a few interesting stories about you too.” Rebecca grinned, watching him as the car slid out into the road. It’d be a good hour before they got to the Tower, if not longer. She was going to make every moment count. “Didn’t know I was dating a hero of the Triskelion battle.” 

“That’s ‘cause I wasn’t! A hero, I mean. I hid under the desk for most of it!” Cameron turned pink, squirming around to protect his ribs from her sharp fingers. 

“You stood up to Rumlow first.” Rebecca leaned across the back seat to kiss his cheek. “You were strong when it mattered. That’s all it takes to be a hero.” 

The smile she got back was hesitant. She let him have his moment to adjust, then shifted and pulled out her tablet. “So now that I’ve got you good and embarrassed, got any updates for me on Tolya and the Soldier Project?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” Rebecca snorted, but traded tablets with him so they could catch up on each other’s notes. 

#

“Welcome home, Miss Barnes,” Friday said as the elevator opened. “We’ve missed you.” 

Rebecca bit back a pang of regret for Jarvis, nodding instead. “Thank you Friday. My suite, please?” Cameron stepped on with her, returning to their usual amount of space. She frowned, then stepped over to lean against him. “It’s good to be home.” 

When the elevator door opened again, it was Beth who was there to greet them. She wore a big grin, her blond hair bouncing everywhere with extra curl. “Your grandmother is amazing. I want to adopt her now. Please? Look what she did for my hair!” She turned and bounced, the curls going with her and gaining even more life, if that was possible.

Rebecca laughed and stepped out to hug her friend tight. “I love it. And she says if you can adopt her, not me! She’s still her own woman.” 

Beth laughed and hugged her back just as hard before taking one of the bags from Cameron. The case that held the broken down parts of Guinevere hung on Rebecca’s back. No one touched that, not here. “C’mon. She was asleep but it’s almost time for dinner. What was Seattle like?” 

“Warm. Wet. And not New York.” Rebecca didn’t stop until she found her grandmother curled up in her favorite chair, the one with the view of Brooklyn across the river. “Hey grandma, I’m home.” She sat down on the chair next to the older woman, rubbing her arm.

“Huh. Oh! Becky! Give me a hug!” Once that was duly applied, they got down to business. “Where’s my brother?” 

“He flew in separately. Steve will bring him up tomorrow to see you.”

Rebecca Barnes-Proctor sat up straighter, holding onto her granddaughter’s hand tightly. “How is he? Is he as bad as you thought he’d be?” 

“No. He’s much much better. Come on, I’ll tell all of you over dinner.” 

In the hustle of all four getting in on the preparation, Rebecca took a moment to check her texts. _I’m in New York again. When will you be home?_

_Just got in today,_ she replied. _Now the hard work begins._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's Cameron? Actually, his full name is Cameron Klein. He first appeared in Winter Soldier as the tech Sharon kicked to the side away from Rumlow in the final battle. He also had a cameo in Avengers: Age of Ultron as a tech on the helicarrier commanded by Nick Fury and Maria Hill in the end. I hope we get to see more of him kicking around Shield. 
> 
> OK warning, the rest is srs stuff about politics, you are free to ignore if you need to.   
> ~~  
> On a more serious note, this was written before the election. It won't intrude on the fic, but I'll be the first to tell you I'm scared, and angry at the results. The bigotry unleashed in the US affects a lot of us. I want you to know that if you need to, I'm always here for you to lean on. We're in this together. I'm on Tumblr by the name of Gryphye, if you need to keep things private.


	19. Bricks in the Road

James listened to Parker and Hardison talk about the video game he’d gotten lost in. Malaya was pressed to his chest with his flesh hand, while Steve sat calmly and held his left hand. Natasha was driving, much more sedately than she had in Seattle. 

His first impression of New York was that it wasn’t that much different than Seattle or Portland. Lots of buildings and people crowded in together. Then it kept going. And got louder. Before long, he started seeing things that he vaguely remembered. Eventually, an overlay of visuals clouded his eyes and threatened to overwhelm him. So he looked away, burying his face into Malaya’s fur. 

“You okay?” Steve whispered. This time he remembered not to lean in and crowd James. He nodded quickly, blinking as he looked over at Steve. Concern creased the same spot on his forehead.

“Memory overload,” he whispered back. “Happens. Oh!” He saw the Museum of Natural History over Steve’s shoulder, and instantly lost years. 

>   
> “C’mon Stevie, let’s get inside, out of the wind. It’s freezing!”  
> “You just wanna check out the blonde in the concessions.”  
> An arm wrapped around bony shoulders, pulling Steve in tight. “Nah, right here’s my favorite blonde, and don’t you forget it.”  
> 

“And don’t you forget it,” James repeated, looking up at Steve again shyly. 

Steve jerked his head around to look at the Museum, then back at James. The smile was almost blinding, just as overwhelming as the memories. James tried not to flinch, but he knew Steve the twitch before he ducked his head down, forehead butting James’ metal shoulder.

“I never did, you know. I was just so goddamn angry at everything,” Steve confessed. 

James licked his lips, then hesitantly nudged him back. “From what I hear, you still are.” 

Steve started to laugh, and didn’t stop even as Natasha turned down a side street before going under the massive building to the parking garage.

~ ~ ~ ~

Rebecca met them at the elevator in the garage. Cameron stood next to her, his usual tablet in hand, keeping track of everything in the project. Likewise, Hardison had his phone out, no doubt testing the security of the building. She was getting used to how hackers behaved.

“You guys have a good flight yesterday?” She asked blandly. James was looking spooked, and that made her glad she’d brought Cameron and not someone else. Other than Beth, he might be the least threatening person in the building.

“We didn’t get to see Peggy,” Steve said softly. “Last night was a little rough too.” 

Rebecca didn’t need to ask how. Both men showed signs of strain around their eyes, and Malaya was pressed to James’ shoulder tightly. This time she wore her Captain America harness with a Black Widow leash clipped to it. Idly she wondered if Tony could get the marketing people to start a Winter Soldier line, if James decided to claim the name as his own.

“Okay then, we can either go up to my suite, where grandma is, or we can go to your suite, where it’s empty and quiet. Or we can invade Tony’s lab, if you want to get that out of the way,” she offered, watching each of them in turn. Natasha and Hardison both looked amused, but Steve and Parker were watching James out the corners of their eyes. 

“Rebecca. I want to see Rebecca,” James said after taking a deep breath and standing up straighter. 

“Okay. Everyone’s going? I think I got room for all of you.” Rebecca turned around and stepped to the elevator, lifting her voice a bit. “Friday, could you let Beth know I’ve got Steve and James, along with his two friends and Natasha coming up with us?” 

Tasha stepped closer, her head angled a bit. “Beth’s here?” 

“Yeah, she came down with Cameron from the Academy, said she wanted a vacation and volunteered to help out.” They had planned for everyone to stay at the family home, but after the last dust up with Hydra in Seattle, the Tower had become the better option. Beth knew it inside out, just like all the catering people, so she’d been the best one to stay and manage all the family coming in and out to visit. 

“That’s good. Beth always has a smile on her face and I bet that’s helped.” Tasha stepped into the elevator beside her, then Rebecca realized that although she had met Grandmother before, this was the first time that Nat might be acknowledged as family. 

She leaned over to bump her cousin’s shoulder, saying softly, “No one’s told her about you and James. That’s up to you two, if you want to share that.” It still felt surreal to call Natasha a cousin, even in her own head. 

Surprise flickered through the spy’s eyes before she dipped her head in acknowledgment. The elevator doors closed and Rebecca was suddenly aware of James’ eyes on her. She put on the best reassuring smile for him. “Grandma was happy to hear that you were visiting today.” That earned her a shy smile, but his eyes were still a little more dilated than usual and wide. “And I promise, no yelling. Or she’ll have me to deal with.” 

Steve laughed at that, shaking his head, leaning into James. “I told you about the first time I got to see Becca again, right? She yelled at me for hours! But she listens to Rebecca, amazingly enough.” 

James voice was soft and hesitant. “That’s because she always knew who the good people are.” He smiled at her, and Rebecca felt herself blushing.

“She’s very proud of Rebecca,” Cameron said. “I’ve gotten to know her this month too. And no, she doesn’t listen to me.” He flashed Rebecca a wink. The elevator dinged open, saving her and opening to reveal Beth.

Her friend was dressed in one of her favorite retro fashions, the tight pencil dress from the 40’s, but her hair was all modern curls bouncing free and everywhere. “Wow Friday, you weren’t kidding!” 

“My sense of humor isn’t as well programmed as I’d like,” the AI responded, making James, Parker, and Hardison all look up in surprise. 

“Yeah, she takes some getting used to,” Steve said, squeezing James’ arm and gently pushing him forward. Natasha led the way with Cameron, greeting Beth enthusiastically as the two turned down the hallway. 

Rebecca waited for James, just as Steve and Parker were. Hardison had already struck up a conversation with Cameron about the Stark tablet in his hands, and those two headed for the kitchen. 

James stood still, frozen in place.

~ ~ ~ ~

His legs didn’t want to move forward. The entrance way was a small hall, and he could hear the echoes of other people in the apartment talking. James knew that down that hall and through the door at the end, his sister waited.

Waited like she had for two years. But that voice…

Parker muscled Steve out of the way, laying her hand on his right arm lightly. “One step. Let’s just get off the elevator first, yeah?” 

James looked down. It would just take one step to get off. He could do that. His foot moved forward and he was now IN the apartment. He closed his eyes and started taking deep measured breathes, just like Dr. Garner had taught him. 

Steve, Parker, and Rebecca stepped around him, letting the elevator door slide shut behind him. Malaya’s purr picked up and her nose went into the shell of his ear, grounding him instead of distracting him. 

James finally looked up. The girls had worried looks on their faces, but Steve was calm, and a little sad too. “That voice…” He finally managed to say, staring at Steve.

“Yeah, I know. It was… It was really startling for me to hear too.” Steve stepped closer, holding out a hand to James. He took it slowly. 

“I’m sorry to have startled you, Mr. Barnes. The Captain warned me that my voice may be upsetting to you, but please know, that is not intentional. This is just the way I am programmed.”

Now Rebecca was looking at Steve, eyebrows creased. “Is this connected to how Grandma keeps Yes Ma’am-ing Friday all the time?” 

Steve nodded, rubbing at James’ arm. “Yeah, that’s the accent my mom had, when we were kids.” 

Rebecca stared at him, then punched the arm that Steve didn’t have around James. “You jerk, you should have said something!” 

James laughed at the sheepish look on Steve’s face, the last of the panic breaking loose. He looked down the hallway again. This time, there was a frail woman standing and waiting. Her white hair was brushed back neatly, but he recognized her. He would recognize her anywhere, at any time. “Becca.” 

“Jamie. You really have come home,” she said. Her voice was strong and steady, but she was blinking just like he was. 

James handed Malaya to Steve and took off down the hall. In an instant, he was hugging his sister tightly. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Once James and Steve were settled into the living room and Parker was sure there would be no more upsets, Parker slipped out of the room and down to the kitchen, following Hardison’s voice. 

“The entire building is wired for 1700 Mbps? That is just.. Wow. I can’t get over that.” Hardison looked up, flashing a grin at Parker. “You met my new friend Cameron here?” 

The young man blushed but waved at her. “Yeah, I think I saw him at the airport yesterday when I was picking up Eliot.” She waved back, but stepped over to lean against Hardison. His arm came up automatically around her, even as his face was still focused on the tech toys in front of him. 

“Everything OK in there?” 

“Yeah, they’re settled. Steve’s in there too. Shouldn’t be any upsets from here. If so, Steve will just take him up to his suite. Did you see the view out there?” 

“If you’d like a better view,” Friday broke in, “Mr. Stark would like you to come up to his office. He’d like to meet the man who managed to put a back door in his system. He’d also like you to quit nudgin’ me.” 

Parker grinned with pride. That’s her Hardison. Cameron rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“Okay,” Hardison said, only squeaking a tiny bit. “Let’s go meet the wizard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *leaves a box of kleenexes out* Maybe two or three, huh?
> 
> If you're in the 50, next update is after Thanksgiving. I hope it goes gentle on you. I know how family can be sometimes. Me, I get a 4 day weekend. *cracks knuckles* I got work to do!


	20. Inspections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squeaking this one in kinda late for my own personal deadline. All errors are mine because I didn't give Floryanna more than 3 hours to beta it after it was finished this afternoon. See the end note about why.

Eliot tried to focus on the artifacts in front of him, but his head was pounding, and it was getting harder to hold in his temper and character in place. The sake had been extremely good last night. Maybe too good.

“That kochina, that’s in really superb condition. May I take a closer look?” Janda asked the Sotheby’s curator. She complied and lifted it out, but held it without letting him touch. To Eliot’s eyes, the carving on the side screamed late 1800’s replica at him, but he didn't say anything. This was Sothebys, so they did take care to label things correctly, which he appreciated. He’d seen at least six fake peace pipes touted as Sitting Bull’s in the black markets before. The ones labeled as Geronimo’s were even worse, but hey, if people were that stupid, who was he to keep them from being fooled? 

“This one is definitely going on my list. What do you think, Charlie?” Janna turned to him, cocking his head. 

“That’s one of the pieces that made me think this trip would be very worth it.” Eliot nodded, showing the bookmark on his list. “Hoping the other one’s still here. It’s been put up for sale then taken down so many times, I’m beginning to think it’s not real.” It wasn’t. Hardison had inserted it without Sotheby’s even knowing. Part of why they took the time to prep is that it took two days airing out to keep the leather from smelling like the artificial ager they had used. 

“Yeah? I’ve been impressed by how well you know your artifacts. You’re almost as good as the experts.” Janda turned to smile at him, raising his glass of wine at Eliot.

“Oh, I know we don’t look like much from Texas, but we learn to pay attention when we need to.” Eliot smiled, hiding the glare he wanted to give the man with the buoyant personality. “All the girls liked a guy who took art classes and some of it actually stuck.” 

Janda laughed, just as Eliot had planned. He chuckled softly, rubbing at his forehead, taking a step to induce Janda to follow him. 

Two display cases down had Hardison’s masterpiece in it. It was a round pouch, bead-work painstakingly replicated from a photo Eliot had supplied of a Comanche ammunition bag. The original was in a tiny little museum in Western Oklahoma, safe from the predations he was pretending to be doing. “That right there. This is the real reason I’m here. That belonged to Black Horse himself. Way back when the first Gibsons started kicking dirt in Texas, they got raided by a band of Comanches. Dad’s granpop always swore Black Horse led the raid.” 

Eliot was gambling on the fact that Janda didn’t really know his Comanche history. Not hard, since it wasn’t commonly taught even in Texas. The gamble paid off when the man’s eyebrows went up in appreciation. “So, should be a family heirloom. Are you sure you want this to be part of the portfolio?” 

“Oh yeah. When investors hear the story, it just adds another level of spice to the deal.” Eliot tipped his own wine glass then took a slow sip, pretending to hide a smirk.

Janda laughed softly, nodding and turning to look at the ammo pouch again. “Mr. Gibson, you are a very good salesman.” 

“That’s my other talent. Know what you’re selling, and know how to sell it.” Eliot smiled, making another bookmark on his catalog before moving on with Janda. He took one more glance backward, staying in character. The attendant behind the case winked at him. He grinned, turning to follow Janda into the Brazilian collections. Having Lance Hunter in the group made things fun. Almost made up for the hangover.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Wait, you didn’t hack Jarvis at all, you just tagged him and let HIM open the door?” Parker almost giggled. THE Tony Stark was staring at Hardison, leaning back on the chair with a screwdriver in his hand, swinging it back and forth. “I didn’t think that was possible.” Rebecca’s friend Cameron was watching the two like a tennis matched. 

“Well I wouldn’t have managed it if we weren’t searching the same files, you know.” Hardison’s voice was a little unfamiliar to Parker. She rarely ever heard that particular tone in his voice. She identified bashful, maybe a little hero worship. She’d heard that when he met Archie all those years ago. Sophie had explained everything carefully to her then. Oh! Right, Stark was a hero. Parker grinned, remembering that very first job and Hardison’s apartment. There had been an Iron-man painting over his computer. 

Stark rocked his head a little, tapping at a keyboard a little. “It’s interesting to see a hacker as good as you be so humble.”

Oh wow Hardison was blushing.

“Yeah, well. I know how good I am. I also know who’s better,” Hardison replied. 

“Is that why you’ve already hacked into my security system, my office system, and my Iron Legion design computer? From a phone that’s not letting me in? Those things aren’t even connected!” Parker froze, eyes targeting exits and vents as well as Stark himself. He was still relaxed. Cameron’s eyes were bugging out though. Poor kid. 

“I think I’ve managed to root him out by now, boss,” The AI interjected. 

“You say they’re not connected, but they’re all run off the same trunk line. Your firewalls are good, but they have to let the signal through, no matter how fortified they are,” Hardison replied, relaxing against another counter.

A long silence. The screwdriver rolled back and forth between Stark’s fingers like a drumstick in Eliot’s hand. “You’re suggesting completely separate trunk lines for EACH system?” Stark cocked his head the other way. “Friday?” 

“He does have a point, boss. But I think I can account for that, now that I know the flaw is there.” 

“Good, good.” A screen spun around and suddenly they were looking at the work room back in Seattle. Alice was curled up on the couch with little Stevie, watching a movie. 

“Okay now that explains the pay-per-view bill. It was driving me crazy!” Hardison said, then sighed and shook his head. “I thought it was James. I should’ve known better.” 

“All your skill and you still pay for movies?” Stark was grinning at them both.

“Hey, I don’t have to steal movies anymore!” Hardison grinned back, shrugging.

“Uh-huh. I’m going to let that one go.” Parker felt comfortable to start wandering around again. Some of the hardware around the lab was familiar, similar to things either Hardison or James worked on. In the background, there was a chamber with weird canisters connected to it, but it looked like an ignored project for now. She went past it to the balcony, leaning against the rail to get an idea of the wind currents. 

“I would like to ask you about your buddy downstairs, though.” Parker froze, turning to look at him, stepping away from the ledge and closer to Hardison.

“Yeah we were expecting that,” Alec replied. He glanced towards her, his face relaxed. Still, she was his protection. That’s how they worked. Parker had already picked up two different lengths of cable and several little doohickeys she could turn into a halfway decent relay harness. 

Hardison slid his hand up her arm, light but understanding. “James was really nervous coming here, you know. He wouldn’t have agreed to it if Rebecca had been anywhere else.” 

Stark blinked, then the screwdriver started to swing again. “Well, there is unsolved business between the two of us.” Parker didn’t know that tone of voice. She wished she had Sophie here beside her to manage the tension. 

“He’d prefer to meet on neutral ground. If you need to. Otherwise, he’d rather respect your space and stay out of it.” Hardison’s tone was steady, but a little deeper. He was getting protective, she thought. 

“You could always go up to the Academy,” Cameron piped up. Stark glared at him but the curly haired tech didn’t back down. “I think you’ve been monitoring the Vassiliev data anyways.” There was a shy smile on his face, hands flat on the table in front of him. “At least, I think I’ve gotten the hang of telling your data apart from Skye’s and Hardison’s.” 

“Yeah, I forgot you worked on that project.” The screwdriver waved in the air before pointing at Cameron. Parker pocketed another little doohickey that she wanted to play with later, while Stark was distracted. “You were Shield before, right?”

Cameron nodded. “Sharon Carter got me out of the Triskelion when it went down. Then Nick Fury gave me a job again.” He shrugged, but Parker could see his knuckles going a little pale. 

“I got words for you, since you’re dating Rebecca. That can wait until later. Why do you wanna talk about Vassiliev?”

“Because his descriptions of what they went through back up Grant’s story.” Now the poor kid was stuttering. 

“I read the report of Colonel Rhodes, after the thing that went down after the Stark Expo. By the way, amazing. I practically lived there the whole time,” Hardison said, actually putting his phone away.

“He did. I think he cried when it got blown up,” Parker said, grinning at her partner’s wounded look of betrayal. “You did!” 

“Yeah, and what’s Rhodey got to do with this?” Despite the little joke, Stark’s words got sharper.

“He described what it was like, being in the War Machine suit when someone else was controlling it. That all he could do was talk to you, not stop anything from happening.” Hardison paused. Stark had looked away at that. Then Hardison went on, his voice softer than ever. “Both James and Vassiliev have said that’s what it was like. Tiny fragments of memory come through, here and there. We’ve all seen James flip into Soldier mode and he doesn’t exist anymore.”

Oh, so that’s what Hardison was aiming at. “He won’t even eat or shower or sleep unless I give him explicit commands. If I’m not there, he just stands in one place, blank like your suits in the frames over there.” Parker pointed to the shadowed recesses. A faint hint of red and gold told her she was right.

“That’s what I’ve seen with Vassiliev. He’s imprinted on Maria Hill the same way. Only he still accepts a couple of us as, I don’t know, body techs I guess,” Cameron added. Parker didn’t think there was any blood left in his fingers at all by this point.

“Right.” Stark’s fingers flew, and all the screens went blank, even the ones that had been in the air. Parker didn’t need to look at Hardison to know he was salivating over that. “You guys stay downstairs, either Rogers’ suite or below, and I’ll stay up here until he’s gone.” Stark paused, then pointed at Parker. “I’m holding you responsible, you and your third buddy who’s setting up to take out some of my competition. Go on, go keep him from, I dunno, whatever it is he does now.” 

Then he stared until the three of them shuffled onto the elevator again. None of them spoke for ten floors. 

“Well,” Hardison said finally. “At least he didn’t throw us off the balcony.” 

“That would’ve been cool though!” Parker held up her new harness rigging she’d put together in silence, grinning wide.

“Parker, no, no baby! Just... Mmnnnmmm nope! Nu uh! Stop that!”

Cameron gawked the rest of the way down to Rebecca’s suite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so history notes for background. A kochina is a figure of a person, deity, or spirit depending on who is depicted. Usually found in the Southwest among the Apache and Hopi nations, to name just two. Sitting Bull had many pipes, but many replicas were also made. He went to Paris as part of Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show and was made a living curio at times. Geronimo probably did have pipes, but given his post surrender life, I'm not sure how you could authenticate which was which. Black Horse is a renowned Comanche chief, who rode with Quannah Parker in the Red River War of 1874. He spent three years held captive in Florida before he was allowed to return home. 
> 
> Of the three, I think Geronimo had the more interesting life after his surrender. He lived for quite a few more years after his surrender near Ft. Sill in Oklahoma, remarrying and farming until his death in 1909. He often went to events and sold his autograph, most famously at the 1904 World's Fair in St. Louis for $5 a pop. 
> 
> He was never allowed to return to Arizona, the land of his birth and his people. He was still considered a prisoner of war when he died. There are still Apaches descended from his band and several others living near Lawton, most commonly called the Ft. Sill Apache. There's a museum there that I highly recommend if you ever go to that part of the world. They also recognize the members of the tribes who joined the military and served the US after they were so-called tamed, including the Comanche who served as Code Talkers in both World Wars. I could write a thesis paper from that museum alone. Others have.  
> ~~
> 
> I almost changed focus on the fic, because of the Dakota Access Pipeline protest going on right now. I've been watching the NoDAPL situation closely. I've kinda been trying to stay apolitical because this is a Leverage/MCU cross over fan fic. But I chose this particular story line of wrong to be righted well before the NoDAPL situation became as big as it has. I almost decided to go back and erase it, but then I kicked myself. I'm a child of the open plains. These are my people. If we never talk about ourselves in small ways, how are others supposed to know why it's so important when we speak up about the big things?


	21. Going Fishing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so finally a little bit of teh prons on screen. Nothing graphic, but a lot of unwinding? *cough* Just skip the James and Steve sections if you want. You won't be missing any plot.

Natasha smiled as James and Steve stepped off the elevator. Stark still maintained suites for all of them, even if this wasn’t their main residence. She used her own now and then. And now that she could openly call Rebecca her cousin, she expected to use it more. 

If she didn’t get herself evicted with her next act. 

Natasha checked herself in the reflection of the elevator’s silver walls. Her red hair cascaded down her back in curls, her jacket and jeans spotless as always, while her two knives and single gun weren’t visible to the trained eye. Good. 

“Agent Romanoff, before I let you into the lab, I want you to know. He’s not in the best of moods,” Friday said quietly into the elevator cabin.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.” Friday made her wait for a second, then the door slid open on the top floor lab. It was dark, which meant Tony was brooding. He’d been the second person who’d gone on to become Avengers that she had met, and she’d never trusted him further than she could see him.

Natasha stepped off the elevator, taking advantage of the empty lab to glance around. She saw a theoretical replica of the halo, sending a shiver down her spine. All she remembered from her one experience was blinding light and searing pain. She wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or not. Behind it, in dark recesses, there were five different suits in various stages of completion.

To the left of the halo, she could also see a mockup of the cryotube. It wasn’t surprising that Tony had created his own. Natasha expected NASA to benefit from his experiments in the next few years. Everything was dark though, even Bite-Size had gone somewhere else. 

A flash in the back. Tony’s private elevator opening up for her, letting her up the last floor to his private lair. 

~ ~ ~ ~

James followed Steve into the suite. It was larger than all places they’d ever lived before, combined. He whistled low, turning slowly in a circle to look around, Malaya held securely in his arms. Lights came up automatically, revealing stylish furniture and artwork like he’d seen in some of the magazines the crew studied. “This… this is not your place. I like your rooms at the Academy better.” He knelt down to let Malaya hit the ground, smiling as she immediately ran under the couch.

Steve froze behind him. James stood and turned, feeling shy as he watched Steve’s face. It only two three seconds for him to slowly melt in understanding. “Your friend Parker, I’m assuming. She took photos when she delivered my birthday present?” 

James nodded, letting stress drop off, his shoulders relaxing. “Sorry?”

“No. No, it’s okay. And yeah, you’re right. I didn’t pick the stuff in here.” Steve stepped closer, his hands sliding to James’ arms. He decided he liked the touch. He could feel the heat of Steve’s body, even through layers of clothes. “I did deactivate all the cameras in here though.” 

“Oh really?” James smiled. Steve had suggested coming up to decompress emotionally. Parker and Hardison had left to go to work. Rebecca and her crew were settling things down as well. James knew that sometimes, the best way to let go was to distract. And they were finally alone. 

Well, almost. James tapped his ear, murmuring “guys, I’m going to go off comms for a while. Text me if anything comes up?” 

“You got it,” Hardison murmured softly in his ear. Then there was silence when James pulled the little device out of his ear and set it carefully in a bowl of decorative stones on a table. 

“Huh,” Steve murmured, eyes on him. James didn’t give him a chance to say anything else as they leaned into each other. He could hear Steve’s heartbeat jump when their lips touched. Soft, searing, cleansing heat against his lips made him gasp as he stepped closer. 

~ ~ ~ ~

The elevator went from low lights in the lab to the bright lights of Tony and Pepper’s apartment. Natasha had texted Pepper earlier, but unfortunately she was out in Los Angeles right now. They were friends, of sorts, from the time she had insinuated herself into their lives as Pepper’s assistant to keep an eye on Tony. Now she kept the CEO up to date on things that affected Tony so she could prepare for that. 

The little truth bomb she was bringing to him happened to be one of those troubling matters.

“I was actually expecting you later. I had dinner planned and everything,” Tony said from his chair. The genius was sprawled out in one of his favorite beat up chairs. A bottle of Balvenie scotch sat next to him, a glass sloshing in his hand. Yeah, this was familiar. 

“I’ve learned to get a head start when it comes to you, Tony.” She moved to the small bar to pick up a glass for herself, pouring three fingers into it before sitting in front of him. “How are you doing?”

“Me? Oh, I’m grand. The lower levels of my home and sanctuary are overrun by Barnes, including the one that made me an orphan.” Tony raised his glass before draining it, groaning softly. “No wait, now he’s in Rogers’ suite. He’s going to bone my friend in my tower. Yeah. Oh, I’m just dandy.” 

Natasha laughed. “Trust me, I don’t want that mental image in my head either Tony.” She drained her glass too, then felt she was gracious to let Tony fill it up again. 

~ ~ ~ ~

The wall behind Steve was well built. It barely gave as five hundred pounds of super soldier slammed against it. James’ hands were under the staid button down shirt, his teeth on the skin of Steve’s neck. 

“God I’ve missed this,” Steve gasped, grabbing and tugging at the shoulders of James’ hoodie. “Bedroom’s just in there.” 

James pulled back a bit to watch his lover’s face. He was flushed and breathless and beautiful. “You look like the time we snuck off from the Howlies in that barn outside Friborg.” 

“Before or after you showed me that little trick with your tongue?” Steve asked, breathing fast as he leaned in for another kiss, demonstrating the tongue thing. 

James groaned his answer, melting as Steve pushed him across the hall to the other wall. “After!” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“So what is this, my… I dunno. Declarations of intent? Peace negotiations? What do you call this?” Tony stuttered. 

Natasha relaxed, toeing her heels off and kicking them to the side before digging her toes into the plush carpet. “It’s whatever you need it to be, Tony. I’m his security. And that means yours as well.” 

“Mine? You can personally guarantee my physical safety from him and everything he brings with him?” The glass was waving everywhere, the scotch sloshing around in it. Tony wasn’t half as drunk as he projected though. His reaction was more likely to be emotional upset, she knew. Six years of history with Tony Stark gave her an edge only Happy and Pepper had. 

“Yes. Because he doesn’t do that anymore. Steve and his friend Eliot can and will stop him if something trips him. So can I.” That hadn’t gone so well the last time, but things were different now. “I’m assuming you’ve read everything uploaded to the Shield and Academy databases by now.” 

“Yeah, including that little tidbit Alkhimovich dropped on us. Where did she come up with THAT one?” Tony was staring at her now. She could tell he was hoping she’d deny it.

“Friday, could you pull up my personal research project, Karpov WS six two, please. I’m releasing all my research on the Winter Soldier project into your database.” Natasha took a slow sip of the scotch, letting Friday digest the rather large file.

Tony stared at her while Friday did that. Then he raised his hand to bring a screen up between them. Natasha shifted around to hook one leg over the arm of the chair, swinging her bare foot in the air.

“This is from my computers. This is… You took the DNA from my databases,” Tony muttered, glaring at her through the screen. 

“You’re the one who decided everyone needed to submit a blood sample to work here.” 

“For security!” he said over her, still flicking through the screens. “So what, you compared his DNA to Rebecca’s and then. Wait, this is your DNA. How’d I have that?”

Natasha shrugged a little. “You didn’t.” She stressed the ‘you’ harshly. “I borrowed the tech when you were doing it. I wanted to see how it worked on me.” 

“So it’s true, he really is your sperm donor?” 

She couldn’t help it, she giggled at that. “Oh god, that’s the best description yet. Only he didn’t really donate it, you know.” 

“I’m…” A famous Stark pause filled the air. “Yeah, I’m not going there. I like this scotch too much to waste it throwing up.” 

Natasha smiled, taking another sip from her glass. “Thank you. I hated ‘going there,’ as you said.” Data was still flowing on the screen, sending his face into technicolor shadows. “He never had a choice. You know that, right?” 

Tony’s voice was soft. “But he killed my mom.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

They didn’t make it to the bedroom. That was okay. The plush carpet was softer than a lot of places they’d been before. Although the carpet burn was gonna itch later, James knew. 

He had his metal hand hooked around Steve’s thigh, holding him in place as they ground against each other. He didn’t dare trust it with anything delicate. 

Steve was not so polite with his hands. Or his mouth. Or any other part of his body. “FUCK why did I wait so long!” 

“Want me to stop?” Steve lifted up, face flushed and mouth bruised despite the smirk he wore. 

James growled and rolled them over, bouncing into the wall as he wiggled into place on top of Steve. “You stop, it’s gonna be another two years before I speak to you again!” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Do what I do. Hate Hydra. Help me destroy them, completely.” Natasha kept her voice even. Shouting never got anywhere with Tony. Unless you were Pepper, but she was probably the only woman who could shout over him.

“Thought that’s what you and your ghost buddy Coulson were doing. How come you’re not done yet?” Tony shot back. 

“Because those bastards are sneaky little shits and know how to watch their backs. I’ve got plans though. Might have been,” Natasha paused, shrugging a shoulder, “chumming the waters a little bit.”

Tony stared at her, eyes going a little bit wider. “You’re using him as bait, hoping to shake someone out. Your own father!” Some of his playfulness was back, if that fake gasp was anything to go by. “Who?”

“I’m going for some big hitters. The Malicks, both of them.” Tony shuddered a bit. Oh right, she remembered, he had a fling with Stephanie back in the day. “Vasily Karpov. Brock Rumlow.” She paused again, then let a little growl slide into her voice. “Marissa Pierce.”

Tony pointed a finger at her. “I’m going to skip over the fact that I slept with two of them, and just go to ‘what’s your plan?’”

Oh, she had him now. Dealing with Tony was all about baiting the hook right. She shifted and dropped both feet to the ground so she could lean forward, letting her most dangerous smile free. “Friday? Bring up my file called “Salt the Earth,” please.”

~ ~ ~ ~

It was hard, coming off the high of meeting THE Tony Stark, but Hardison was managing. The secret was work. 

Eliot was taking in the theatre with a few high rollers they’d helped back in the day, in an effort to beef up his personality’s background. A couple of them had agreed simply because Janda was their target. The lady on Eliot’s arm had been one of those burned by the revenge porn site, an actress building a name for herself all over again. 

Hardison was monitoring the chatter over Eliot’s comms even as he did a fresh trawling run through Janda’s computers. The sudden trip to New York City was still irking one of Alec’s sensibilities. There was something not quite right there. Enough not right that he’d asked Parker to take another run at slipping past Janda’s security at this office. If he was headquartered in Seattle, why did he need a permanent office in Manhattan?

Right on time, another screen bloomed with a fresh burst of data. “Got it Parker. Take a good look around. What kind of place is this?” 

“Honestly? I would call it the office of junior partner in an ancient law firm.” Her camera turned on, and he could see what she meant. It was a grand office, but the building it was in put it to shame quickly. “Hardison? You did do a full background check on him, right?” 

“Unless there’s something hidden on paper somewhere that’s never been digital, yes.” If Eliot had asked that question, he’d be going off on him. But Parker? Never. “Why do you ask?” 

She held up a photo to her camera, showing him the framed photo of Janda with Gideon Malick and Alexander Pierce, in a room that screamed old money, with the arm of someone who had to be the elder Janda around the younger’s shoulder. “Who’s that?” 

“Some muckety muck with Hydra, I’m guessing. I’ll send it over to Skye and see what she comes up with.” Hardison cracked his knuckles and grabbed his bottle of orange soda. “Time for me to get to work.”

Parker continued her search of the office, only interrupting when she came across his Sothesby catalog. “Hardison? I know what he’s after here.” 

She held up a photo of a Mayan artifact. It was a wood panel with a set of four pyramids carved in relief, then plated with gold. It’s description mentioned the strange markings on the back that had given rise to all sorts of alien conspiracies. 

“Oh boy, we get to run a pyramid scheme!” Hardison joked, grinning to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK the back and forth bits, that's mostly my fault. Floryanna gets at least 12% of the blame for egging me on. 
> 
> Just FYI, the birthday present Steve mentions is in the side fic "You and I, and I, Alone." 
> 
> No specific episodes mentioned, but in reflections, Pyramid Schemes were part of the background set up in the Fairy Godparents episode, S2E4. And the First Contact Job, S5E3, will ALWAYS be a favorite of mine.


	22. Tangled Webs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, late update. More in the end note.  
> Slight spoilers to both season 2 and 3 of AGENTS of Shield.

James followed Malaya into the kitchen, smiling with amusement at her comments of frustration. No toys, no attention, and a strange location. No, she wasn’t happy here and she let him know it. “I know baby girl. We’re leaving in a bit. But I think there’s tuna here?” 

He took his times going through the cabinets and fridge, giving Malaya tidbits of things he came across. Steve had said to get what he wanted before going downstairs to the gym. What James wanted was the peace and quiet to decompress. But he did take the moment to put the earbud back in. 

Hardison was muttering to himself about something in code. Eliot was still with the group of swells, putting on a good show for the tail Parker had identified. 

Parker herself, she was snoring. James spared a moment to think about where she might be, then decided probably in an air shaft somewhere. He’d come to identify that sound as peaceful. 

Distraction for both of them came from trying to recreate one of Eliot’s simpler recipes with what was on hand. He made toys out of bread ties and bits of plastic for Malaya to bat around the floor, laughing hard when she went to war with the little robot that came out to clean the floor of objects. 

Once the pasta was done he watched the door for a moment, then shrugged, sitting to eat on his own and scroll through updates on his cell phone. One quick photo of Malaya in battle to go on his twitter account, then back to his place in _The Hunger Games._ He didn’t like it as much as he had the Harry Potter series. Far too dark. 

James was on the third bowl of pasta when Steve finally returned. Instantly he was on his feet, because Steve blew in like a storm, anger radiating in waves around him. His voice was tight and clipped when he finally spoke. “Get dressed, we’re leaving.” Then he was in the back room, sweeping through like an vicious Nor’easter from Maine. Even Malaya gave up on trying to win back her toys from the robot to race over, climbing his leg like her tree at home. He’d gotten used to the little pinprick cuts from her nails.

James did take long enough to sweep all the dirty dishes into the sink before heading to the bedroom to grab the rest of his stuff. He found Steve staring at himself in the mirror, pale and blank. “What happened?” he asked, even as he pulled on the rest of his clothes. 

Steve blinked, then flushed, looking back at James. “I was talking with Tony, trying to make sure everything was good. Natasha had a go at him too. He’s…” Steve sighed, then shook his head. “We’re leaving. And we’re not coming back.” 

“That’s harsh,” James murmured, picking Malaya up again to cuddle her to his chest. “Just tell me.” 

James thought he could hear the creak in Steve’s molars as he ground them. The words came short and clipped. “Tony’s read all the files. He’s found the words.” 

Ice slid through his entire body, but he put Malaya down to finish dressing. “Right. Let’s go.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

People swirled around them, walking through the viewing rooms. Most treated this as a social outing, since it was an open viewing to anyone, not just prospective buyers. Hardison stood to his left as they walked through, dressed prim and proper in his persona of Eliot’s history expert. 

Just to Eliot’s right, James stood with his arms crossed, glowering enough to cause a bubble to form around them of empty space. His hair was dyed to a lighter brown that Eliot’s own, and he found that he missed the purple streaks. The cowboy hat sat easy, dipped down low over his brow, shadowing the scar they’d applied to his cheek. Sleeves of his blue denim shirt were folded up to show tense forearms, completing the look of Charlie’s surly cousin who served as muscle and other tasks as needed. Used to be Eliot’s role, back when they had Nate or Sophie be the face of the con.

Eliot could see Janda wandering through the crowd, networking. Other people were there too, and much to his surprise, Tony Stark had swept through the room, his CEO Pepper Potts with him to look at the artifacts for sale. It made for a good distraction, even if it felt like James’ jaw would never come unclenched again. 

“Charlie! I was hoping you’d make it out today.” James flinched a little as Janda pushed up into their bubble, but only turned to glare at the newcomer. To Eliot’s amusement, Janda seemed to falter a bit.

“Hey there, Max!” Eliot stepped forward to take the hand, shaking it in a street manner rather than business like. “Oh, don’t mind my cousin Johnny here. He just came up from Dallas to handle the security side of things.” 

James flexed his jaw, and Eliot was proud of the way he kept his eyes steady and bland. Show strength, but don’t threaten. “However, I would like to introduce you to our appraiser Dr. Arthur DuClaire.” He turned, shifting his body to block James a bit and pull Hardison forward.

Alec had adopted a bland, slightly Texan accent, suggesting both refinement and education as well as influences. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Charles had sent us the catalog and there was so much to look over.” He shook Janda’s hand properly, almost primly. “And to see Tony Stark here was just thrilling! I would love to take a walk through his modern art collection some day.” 

“Yeah that was a surprise. I didn’t know he was interested in Pre-Columbian artifacts myself,” Janda answered, instantly easing up in Hardison’s company. “Charlie said he’d hoped you make it here in time for the auction tomorrow. Have you had a chance to look at the pieces?” 

“Yes, but not up close yet. I’ve an appointment to do that tomorrow. There’s a mask in the collection I’ve asked to see as well.” He turned bodily to look across the hall at the turquoise and gold warrior mask sitting prominently in a case by itself, unlike most of the other pieces. Like the pyramid piece and hell, half the artwork in the room, it had a bit of a questionable past.

James coughed softly, and Eliot turned to look at his very pointed expression. “Right. I’m sorry to have to leave, but there’s more work we need to do. Dad gave us a few chores to do while we’re in the city.” 

“He does keep you busy, doesn’t he?” Janda said, then turned to Alec. “Dr. DuClaire, would you like to join me for a walk around? I’d like to hear your thoughts on this venture.” 

“I would enjoy that.” Alec turned to them, sneaking a wink at James as he bowed his head a little. “Dinner later?” 

“Absolutely. C’mon Johnny.” Eliot turned and headed out of the hall, James at his elbow once more.

A soft voice murmured onto the comms. “And here I thought Natasha was frightening.” 

Eliot laughed into his shoulder, glancing back to see James grinning. “Steve, if you think that was good, just hang on to your seat. Real show’s about to begin.” They stepped out onto the street and headed around the corner, snow pelting them in the face, listening to Alec start the next phase.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Lance Hunter hadn’t had this much fun in ages. And he hadn’t even gotten to punch anyone yet.

The speed and efficiency of this crew of thieves rivaled everything that he’d become accustomed to at Shield. Since they could pick and choose which laws applied, they were even faster. It would have taken the better part of a month to insinuate himself into Sothesby’s the old way. 

This crew had created documentation and not just plausible background, but one that passed rather serious scrutiny and put him to work in the auction house the day he agreed to work with them. It took the sting off being disavowed a little. Just a little. 

The hacker Hardison was leading the mark over to the piece he oversaw, the carved relief of pyramids. The carving on the back of it, the lines and circles, that made him giggle, especially since they had solved that riddle last year at Shield. If the giggle was a little muted due to the memory of Tripp, well, it was his own brain after all.

A dark-haired lady made her way to his station behind Janda and Hardison. She was dressed to the nines, the way he wished he could get Bobbi to dress. The way she smiled and watched everything spelled trouble for anyone and everyone. Lance straightened up a bit, even as he dipped his head in greeting to the mark. 

“Would it be possible for you to turn it around and let Dr. DuClaire here take a look at the markings on the back?” Janda asked, a little more sharp than he had been with Eliot.

“Certainly sir. Sothesby’s would like to remind you to please allow us to handle the objects for you until after the auction.” He’d said that so many times that it came naturally now. Lance tested his gloves then lifted the plaque up to turn it around inside it’s case. 

“I see what you mean. I would love to take a better look at it in the morning when I appraise the other artifacts,” Hardison said, reaching out to trace a fingernail on the glass separating the artifact from him. “I’ve only seen this one other time.” 

“Excellent. I’ll just meet you and Gibson here in the morning.” 

Hardison turned to shake Janda’s hand, letting Lance put the artifact back in it’s proper position. 

Two full beats after Hardison had wandered off to look at something else, leaving Janda to stare at the pyramids in thought, he heard a soft southern Georgia accent speak up. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but was that Charlie Gibson you were speaking to earlier?”

Janda turned to the woman, eyes softening as she flashed him a brilliant smile. It promised sex and glory at the same time, without promising it was available. Hunter was impressed. “And you are?” Janda asked, leaning into her warmth without holding out his hand.

“My name is Katherine-Beth Lovery, of the Savannah Loverys.” A soft, throaty laugh filled her next words. “But you can call me Kitty.” She tapped his shoulder with an elegant finger, then held out her hand. 

Janda took it, instantly enthralled by her, dipping to kiss her knuckles instead of shaking her hand. “I would be delighted to. Max Janda, at your service.” He straightened up, smiling almost tenderly at her. This woman was a work of art if she could get that reaction instantly. “And yes, that’s my business partner Charlie Gibson. Are you friends with him?” 

“Oh, bless me, no. I just want to know what pieces he’s after, so I can avoid them.” She turned to slap her hand bag against a mousy man’s shoulder. “Roger, take note. I don’t want to take the chance of getting one of his fakes.” 

The slouchy guy with the glasses barely flinched at the bag slap, mumbling a “yes ma’am” under her voice, pulling out a small notebook from his suit jacket pocket.

“Fakes?” Janda asked sharply, face going stony despite the obvious allure of this ‘Kitty’ person. 

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t try to get something past Sothesby’s. They’re way too good for that,” she replied, trying to reassure. “But that con man probably has something up his sleeve. Come along, Roger.” She slapped the mousy man again, turning to step away.

“Wait, please. I would consider it an honor to take you to dinner. I’m thinking that maybe I didn’t speak to the right people about Charlie Gibson and his intentions.” Janda held out a card to her, caught between his first two fingers with the rest of his hand spread wide. “Please, you would be doing me a great favor.” 

Kitty paused, looking him over with a clear intent to size him up, then slid her hand into his to take the card. “I think that would be most delightful.” She looked up at him, leaning in and letting her smile spread as she held the card up to the man behind her to take. 

In Lance’s ear, Steve Rogers murmured, “Okay, she’s scary.” 

From the street, he could hear Eliot laughing. “Yes, she is.”

Hunter watches them go, ducking his head as the Interpol agent on hand stepped up to look at the artifact. He had no clue who the guy was, but he knew to be careful and not let his original accent slip out. 

He didn’t have to worry about it though. The guy’s eyes were on Kitty. The name badge shifted when he turned to follow them visually. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Sophie Devereaux,” the man murmured. The ID read James Sterling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. You think I'd be writing this massive loopy thing and leave out Sterling? *snerks* 
> 
> 2\. Yes, Hunter and Bobbi Morse got disavowed by Shield this last season. At the time, they had their own series lined up, but it got cancelled. BOOOOO! I loves me some Bobbi. 
> 
> 3\. I apologize for missing my usual Friday posting time. The general uncertainty has colluded with my depression to make things a little worse than usual. But as this story makes ME happy as well as making others happy, it will go forward!  
> Just FYI though! Next week will also be late, cause I have tickets with a friend to go see Rogue One on Friday and Miss Awesome, AKA Floryanna has to study and take her last final EVER. So wish her some good thoughts, yeah?  
> ETA: Kitty-Beth Lovery is from S1E3. Decided to borrow her.  
> ETA2: Went back and corrected Hunter's first name from Ian to the correct Lance. sorry about that!


	23. Scripting

“I don’t think Sterling will be much of a problem.” Nate held his hands up to fend off the reactions of the others. “Wait! I mean, really. Think about it,” he said. 

“We have been thinking about it. He knows we have the Black Book and what we’ve been doing with it. He might be here because of us,” Eliot countered. James felt like he was watching a tennis match, as fast as these people argued.

“But he might not be. You know he deals mostly with art now. He might be here on something completely unrelated!” Nate was relaxed. James didn’t quite know how to read him. Of the five grifters, Nate was the one who still made him a little queasy. He leaned against Steve and worked at controlling his breathing the way Dr. Garner had taught him. Steve pressed back, but didn’t look. The trust was there again. That made him feel better even more than Eliot glancing over to reassure him. Eliot knew how having too many people around was overwhelming. Everything about New York was overwhelming, if he was honest about it. 

“And how do you suggest we find out?” Parker asked. James looked over at her and read her body posture the way Sophie had taught him. Her arms were crossed, but her head was cocked and her shoulders were relaxed. He realized that she trusted Nate completely, as much as Eliot and Hardison. 

Nate turned to point at Steve. “Pretty sure even Sterling wouldn’t expect Captain America to plant a bug on him. He’s still wearing that black overcoat, yeah? It’s March. Slip one of your stickies up under the back of the collar and we can track him anywhere.”

“I’d rather bug his phone. Or his badge. He’s more likely keep those on him,” Hardison said, already turning to his computer.

“Okay. We can work with that. Steve?” Nate turned to smile at him. 

Steve went stiff beside him. James rubbed at his thigh, trying not to laugh. “I’m lousy at acting, at being under cover,” Steve admitted, his voice deep with regret. 

“He’s right. I never figured out how he survived the spangle circuit back in the forties, because he’s so damn stiff. Especially with someone he knows he’s supposed to make like him,” James added, making Steve drop forward to hide his face in those stupidly large hands. 

“That’s why we have Sophie,” Nate replied. James turned to look at her, thoughtful as he caught her eyes before nodding.

“Okay, so we’ll work on that. The rest of the con is set?” Sophie asked, just smiling at him. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything is in play. I directed his web search straight to the page I set up for Bobbi’s character and he called her an hour ago.” Hardison looked over to the side where Bobbi and Lance sat, very loose and relaxed but he could tell they were listening and cataloging everything. Natalia had said they were very very good. He believed her.

“Yup. I’ve had several calls for this auction. Everyone thinks I’m legit,” Bobbi confirmed. “If I actually knew what I was pretending to know, I’d make out really well.” 

Nate turned to Parker, eyebrow arched and finger pointed. “Button cam? Nice.” Parker just smiled, swinging a bit in her chair with pleasure. 

“All right.” Nate rubbed his hands together, looking around the room. James realized he was used to directing these things. “I think Sophie has tickets to something amazing so we’re going to the play and we’ll see you in the morning.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“You really think I can do this?” Steve asked, leaning in as he watched James and Rebecca puzzle their way through the notes on the table. Watching the two of them was fascinating, even if he didn’t understand a thing about neural networks or synapses connections. Yet. He made a mental note to do some homework of his own later. 

James looked up at him, relaxed and smiling easily. It was a beautiful sight. “Of course. Just trust Sophie and she’ll walk you through everything.” He paused, leaning back in his chair. This was one thing that Steve had to teach himself to be okay with. No one mentioned the long pauses James had at times, but even Steve understood that this was how his brain worked now. “She taught me a lot about becoming a person again. I didn’t really remember a lot, not then. I’d say she taught me manners, but it was more than that.” James looked up at him, forehead creased. “She said I was freer than a lot of people. Most people are socially conditioned on how to act that while they think they’re making choices, they’re really just following the script subconsciously.” 

Rebecca paused, twirling a pencil in her fingers. “You know, that’s kind of scary to think about. Also,” and she turned to face Steve. “It also explains why you had a hard time adjusting, those first couple of years. Your inner script didn’t match. Hell, still doesn’t.” 

“I wish I had Sophie when I came out of the ice,” he murmured, but yeah, that did make sense. He’d commented once to Natasha about everyone speaking English and he felt like it was a completely new language to him. “Instead I had you, and Natasha.” He sat back, watching James watch him, then nodded. Yeah, he could do this. He’d made it through the spangle circuit because of the chorus girls taught him how to relax and follow the script. This wouldn’t be any different. 

“So what about you, why are you hanging out with us instead of Cameron tonight?”

Rebecca laughed, making a note of the sheet in front of her. “He’s back up at the Academy. Coulson had to pull his team to follow up a lead on the Malicks, so Cameron volunteered to be on hand for Tolya.” 

James did his little nod and pause thing, then shyly asked, “Can we go visit too?” 

“I think we could arrange that, once your thing is done here. Should wrap up in a couple days, right?” Steve said, his thoughts jumping ahead. 

“I’d like that. I wanna see your real place.” James had his head down, but Steve could feel his eyes anyways. 

“I can’t wait to show it to you,” he replied.

“Welp, in that case, Beth and I are definitely gonna ditch all you high rollers and go have some plain girl time tomorrow,” Rebecca said, breaking up the schmoopy feeling that Steve felt rising. He loved her for that. “I need to hang out with the normal people now and then.” 

“Hang out? What do you do, climb buildings like Parker?” James was giving them such a confused look that Steve couldn’t help but giggle. The warmth behind explaining that bit of pop culture sustained him until the next morning and Sophie’s impromptu acting lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hokay kiddos, one big note with an apology bow wrapped all around it. Parts one and two, I had written out LONG in advance of posting them. This one has been fly by the seat of my pants with my wrist misbehaving and throwing me off my groove. Basically, I can't keep up. So I'm going to take a holiday break until after the New Year to write out this big finale I've got planned. Too many moving parts to keep doing piece meal and I want it RIGHT for you guys. So forgive this tiny bit and the two week break, but come Friday the 6th, I'll be posting again. If by some (holiday) miracle I get it all done, and Florianna doesn't murder me in my sleep, I might just post it all that weekend.
> 
> May all of you have a very wonderful holiday, whichever one you celebrate, even if it's just celebrating the joy of quiet like I do. See you next year!


	24. Cups and Keeping Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! :)

Parker couldn’t remember the last time they had this many players in motion on a con. Okay there was that chocolate con once but that didn’t count. Most of those players were victims of the mark. 

But now these were professionals, even Steve and James. If things went bad, Eliot had help this time covering their backs. That made her feel more confident. Because honestly, she knew she could get herself out of trouble, but sometimes Hardison needed help. 

Parker stood at the back of the room, wearing funky glasses and a bit of a dowdy outfit made out of a droopy sweater over a shapeless dress and a wig of long black hair. Sophie had orchestrated the outfit, knowing that Sterling would be looking for her. It was designed to stand out only long enough to register Parker as harmless historian and then move on. 

From where she stood, she had a perfect view of Sterling working the crowd. She still thought of him as Evil Nate now and then, but he didn’t move the same way. Where Nate would blend in with the flow, Sterling stepped back and let the flow of the crowd go around him. 

“Okay, we’re ready. Come on in,” she murmured into her wine glass. This was her con, she would do the directing. With just the three of them, they rarely needed a director. This needed one badly. 

The tone of the entire crowd changed when Steve and Natasha came into the room. Steve had shaved and let his hair go blond again. He still hadn’t picked up the shield and gone out publicly since returning, so it created a whispered storm of curiosity. Parker was drawn forward along with everyone else, blending in as she slipped behind Sterling. 

Natasha arrowed in on the Interpol agent, jaw set in her role as Agent Romanoff. She’d managed to put her head together with Hill and come up with a legitimate course of investigation into some of the pieces. Sothesby’s director still hadn’t put himself together yet, not with the shock of black market goods moving through his extremely legitimate auction house. 

Natasha pulled an ID wallet out, although everyone knew who she was too. Steve stood awkwardly to the side, projecting discomfort from the crowd but curiosity to the objects d’art surrounding them. “Forgive me for being rather bold, but I’m told that you’re James Sterling,” Natasha said in a low voice. Steve kept walking, pausing now and then to say hello and sign an autograph. 

Sterling’s eyes followed him before snapping back to Natasha. “Yes. How can I help you, miss?” He let the question hang, dipping his head towards her. That gave Parker an excellent chance to lift his phone to strip the case and replace it with their replica with the built-in bug. It was back in his pocket before Natasha spoke again.

“Agent Romanoff. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see your identification.” Parker wasn’t looking at them, but rather gawking at Steve trying to awkwardly take photos with various people. She agreed with Sophie’s assessment. “Just let him be himself, he’ll create enough of a distraction without having to memorize lines.” 

Parker heard the whisper of cloth as Sterling took his ID out to show Natasha. One light touch, a second bug was right where Nate had wanted it, on the back of Sterling’s collar. 

“Thank you. Steve is… a distraction,” Natasha was saying softly. “I would appreciate a quiet word with you? I’m tracking artwork that we believe is being moved through a shell company.” 

“Yes, of course, this way,” Sterling replied, directing himself out of the room. 

“All clear, phase two, go,” she murmured, heading for the far door. “Hardison?” 

“Already plugged in. We’re right on time. Janda’s arriving outside.” His voice was calm, soothing to her nerves. Not that she had nerves, but... She trusted him. That’s how this team survived. 

Parker passed Janda, lifting his phone from his pocket to replace his case with Sterling’s. Eliot took the phone from her with a grin, then she was slipping through a door to go change into her next character.

~ ~ ~ ~

Steve had muttered something about stereotyping, while Rebecca had countered with playing to your type, when they discussed what role James had today. All that went over his head and he chalked it up to some 21st century social commentary nonsense. All he knew, was that only having to stand and glare, with only occasionally saying something in short phrases, was actually kinda comfortable, since he’d be out in the open again. 

He knew that Parker had done the lift as she passed, but it still surprised him when Eliot stepped forward, turning on the big Texan again. “Max, hold up! I think you dropped this!” 

Janda turned, eyes open for a second in surprise. He knew the rest were making facial readings in that second, but all he caught was the moment Janda shut down again. A shiver wanted to crawl down his back. He’d seen that calculating look before. Pierce had been fond of it. James clamped down hard on his emotions as a fragment of a memory floated up about “the man on the bridge.” 

“I hadn’t realized I’d dropped it! Thank you, Charlie.” Janda paused to look around, and James saw him make eye contact with Sophie. The phone was slipped into an inside coat pocket this time as Janda turned back to Eliot. “Pretty good crowd today.”

“Just means the bidding will be interesting.” Eliot paused, then turned towards where Steve was still signing autographs. “Is that Captain America? Woah.” The hero worshiping in his voice sounded authentic to James. 

“Indeed.” Janda turned to look at Steve with Eliot. “They say he’s still a major art historian, even with the seventy years to catch up on.”

“Well, as long as he’s not bidding against us, it’ll be fun to have him around,” Eliot replied. 

That was Hardison’s cue. Parker had tried to explain their timing to him. Their intent was to give Janda something to focus on to keep him from noticing the underlying things. It also helped to shift his attention from thing to thing to keep him from being too caught up on one thing. Then she’d demonstrated by picking everything out of Steve’s pockets and putting bits and bobs of stuff in its place. That had been funny.

James realized that Steve was wearing trousers with button down pockets today.

“Mr. Gibson, Mr. Janda,” Hardison said smoothly as he came forward carrying an overflowing folder of notes in the crook of his arm. “I believe they’re about to let us start. Do you wish to be in the room with me?” 

“Yes, please. And ah, I hope you don’t mind, but I hired an independent appraiser as well. Dr. Collins?” Janda turned, holding his hand out to a blonde woman. "Charlie, Dr. DuClaire, this is Dr. Maggie Collins.” 

“Hi. I’m really excited to work with you today,” Bobbi said, holding her hand out to Hardison. 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Wait, Maggie? Really?” Nate whispered into their ears. “You used my ex-wife as a cover?” Hardison had to fight not to roll his eyes as he shook Bobbi/Maggie’s hand. 

“Finally, he says ex-wife,” Sophie murmured, her back to Eliot and Hardison while Nate stared openly in his role as mousy accountant.

“Dr. Collins!” Hardison said, ignoring the other two. “I’ve so enjoyed your articles on Egyptian and European artwork. I didn’t know you also worked with aboriginal artifacts!” It wasn’t hard to put a little fawning into his reaction. Maggie really was awesome.

“Well, that was the fault of my old company. IYS wasn’t that big on historical artifacts of non-European influence.” The twist that Bobbi put on the words as she shook his hand was delicious in the amount of shade she threw. It sounded exactly as something the real Maggie would have said.

“Well not really Maggie,” Parker said. The clothing change was muffling her words a little. “She’s not working with IYS so it’s plausible she’d be a freelancer now. And we did ask first.” 

“And where is Maggie right now?” Behind Nate, Sophie was rolling her eyes at the protective tone of voice. The silence from the non-Leverage players was telling.

“She’s currently cataloging recently discovered artwork on the behalf of Shield in one of the most protected bases they have,” Parker replied. “It was part of our deal with them. Can we work now?” 

A door opened to the side. Lance Hunter stood there in his role as Sothesby’s handler, checking a list of appraisers. “May I please have Dr. Arthur DuClaire, Dr. Helena Six Hills, Dr. Andrew Zeigler, and Dr. Margaret Collins?” 

Hardison bowed to Bobbi to let her go first. She smiled and kept her hand light on his as they walked toward the door. He didn’t miss the micro glower from Lance at that. He made note to stay out of their personal drama and maybe be a little extra clingy on Eliot and Parker for a while. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Most of what was going on went way over James’ head. Hardison and Bobbi found a way to disagree with each other over every fine detail without actually arguing. He wasn’t in the room, thankfully. They didn’t let any muscle or extraneous people in. After looking over the crowd, he decided at least a third of the people there had some sort of body guard or another. 

It was more fun to listen in on Natasha and Sterling. She had managed to keep him from recognizing Maggie’s name and redirected him on the pieces she wanted. They were in a different auction coming up soon, with Russian and Eastern European pieces that he agreed had once been tainted by Hydra. Someone was liquidating their assets and Natasha wanted to know why. 

James stepped over to pick up a glass of water, getting within earshot of Steve. Three women surrounded him, and memories shook free at how Steve’s words kind of just tangled up in his mouth. That part never changed. One of the women was Parker in her social butterfly role for the rest of the con. She turned and winked at him, before saying something outrageous about how the suit aught to be tighter, if he went back into the business. 

Steve turning crimson was a highlight James would cherish for a long long time. 

“Handing Janda off to Sophie,” Eliot warned, just before he came back out. James turned to catch his eye, then in his character role, he picked up two more glasses of wine and a plate of tiny bits of food to take over to Eliot and Hardison. 

“How’s it going? I can’t keep up.”

“Ooh thank you, and cheese puffs too!” Hardison said in reply, making two of them disappear before answering. “Perfectly. We’ve got him good and spooked. Just listen.” 

“Kitty, I’m very glad I ran into you this week,” Janda was saying. There was a short pause, then one of Sophie’s throaty chuckles filled them in. “It’s going to be a pleasure to show those two fools as the frauds they are.” 

“You are doing the art community a favor we will never be able to repay, you know. If there’s anything I can do to help, please, don’t hesitate. I will be more than happy to assist.” 

“Actually, if I could borrow Mr. Jahns just for a moment to look over the paperwork?” James looked at Hardison and Eliot, grinning when they did. Phase one was complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a great holiday! I got enough in gift cards to get me a Dragon Naturally Speaking package! Just hasn't been delivered yet. Tomorrow!
> 
> At the beginning of the chapter, Parker's referencing the Boiler Job, S4E8, one of my all time favorites. Oh that moon walking bear.


	25. Circles in the Snow

The air blustering down First Avenue was freezing and promised snow later. It felt perfect to Rebecca. “God, Beth, how did we get mixed up in all this bullshit?”

“I don’t know, but if you’re breathing that sea air like ambrosia, it’s time to get you back in the real world. C’mon!” They were both wrapped up against the weather, but Beth’s golden mass of curls held together against the wind easily. 

The two headed away from Stark Tower down to what Rebecca still thought of as their part of town. DeMarco had opened his own place up in MidTown and Beth swore it was better than before. Half the original bistro crew still worked at the Tower in one capacity or another, but several had struck out on their own.

Halfway through the appetizers, Beth started telling a story about Cameron at the Academy that had Rebecca in stitches. It didn’t stop her from checking her phone several times. “Put it away Becca, this is our night!”

“I’m sorry, Beth.” She sighed, then admitted. “I’m supposed to meet up with someone later, only he’s not checking in yet.” 

“Ooohh do I need to tell Cameron you’re stepping out on him?” Beth grinned, leaning forward with a gleam in her eye. One of the reasons Rebecca loved her was that she never took anything serious, at least, not since the Chitauri invasion. 

“No, you horrible gossip!” Rebecca swatted at her with a napkin, laughing. “He already knows!”

“Aww, where’s the fun in that?” Beth pouted at her, and Rebecca knew she was melting.

“I can’t tell you though. It’s a Tony sized secret,” she said, watching Beth over the salted rim of her margarita. She felt horrible, since this was the last of the secrets she kept from her friend.

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m quite happy to be stuck in Catering and let you deal with the bigger issues,” Beth said, emptying her glass and waving for another. “Tonight, it’s my job to help you loosen up and make it easier to handle. Sound good to you?”

“Yeah!” Rebecca answered, waiting until Beth had her refill. She held up her glass to tap to her friend’s and toasted, “To Henry Beach, the bastard who got us here!” 

“To Beach!” Beth laughed as they both drank, then spun off into another story, this time about Clint and the apartment building he owned, and how she’d ended up with an apartment there.

Under the table, her phone vibrated. The text was simple and clear. _Yes. Tonight._

~ ~ ~ ~

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” Bobbi said, making James grin to himself in the loading docks. She was with Nate and Sophie as they headed to the rendezvous point. 

“We’re not done yet,” Eliot muttered, turning to look in the monitor that Hardison had commandeered inside Sothesby’s. The cell phone he carried was good enough for James to see over his shoulder. “Lance, has he picked up the pieces yet?” 

“Order just came down to prep them for shipping. They’re ready to go. We’re sending your pieces out now.” 

“Good, I wanna get out of here before we bump into him again.” 

In James’ other ear, Natasha was with Steve, walking away down the nearby street to their car. “You two should come back up to the tower. Tony’s ready to talk, I think.”

“We can’t, Natasha. And you know why.” Steve’s voice had that familiar strength to it. The world moved before he did when he had that steel in his voice. 

“No, I don’t. I told you, I took care of Tony.” 

“By giving him the words.” Now the tone was going deeper, making James flex and clench his jaw. Eliot gave him a look, the one that said both “I know” and “I’m with you.” 

Natasha answered by hedging her words a little. “Tony has... Words. Doesn’t mean that they’re THE words. Honestly Rogers, you think I’d let Tony have THAT kind of an edge?” 

James smiled back as both of them could clearly hear Steve shifting uncomfortably. “You know, Romanoff, sometimes I think you do this on purpose.” 

“Now Steve, would I do that?” 

James had to turn to keep from laughing at the poor Sothesby’s agent who delivered their purchases. 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

“So where do we stand?” Nate asked, pulling off the accountant glasses to stare at Hardison’s screen. The midtown loft had the heat up high, which Parker loved. The little jade panther she’d bought at the auction made an excellent companion to the little geeky bobble heads Hardison had put up on the shelf above the computer screens. 

“Everyone’s packages are being delivered tonight. Janda bought the Kachina and the pyramid piece, but not the ammo bag I spent two weeks creating.” Parker turned to watch Hardison touch his healing fingertips to his mouth. “But that’s right where it’s supposed to be. He also picked up a couple other pieces he didn’t mention to either Eliot or Sophie.” Oh, there’s the smirk she knew so well. 

“And our other friends?” Parker paused to concentrate on the various conversations going on in her ear. 

“Uh, me and my wife are going to have dinner before you put us back to work, thank you very much.” That was Hunter. Parker liked him. He reminded her of Eliot, only softer and much more vocal. 

She swallowed a laugh at that, turning to face Nate. “James and Steve are with Natasha. We’ve got three hours until the next phase starts. We’ve got eyes on Janda and Sterling.” She turned to the tracking screen Hardison had set up. Each tracker had its own screen and both targets were exactly where they wanted them to be. 

Sophie stepped out of the bathroom, looking like herself and not Kitty, although that persona had a date set up to catch back up with Janda in two weeks. Back up plans to back up plans. That’s the one thing Parker had learned from Nate. Always have options. 

“Then if you don’t need us, I think Hardison has pizza coming in for the two of you, and Sophie and I have tickets to Hamilton.” Nate stood up and held out his hand to Sophie, smiling at her. 

“Oh, good choice! I’ve seen it three times since I got here!” Hardison replied, rolling over to wrap an arm around Parker’s hips. 

“I’m really glad you guys came in on this one. We’ve missed you,” Parker admitted, leaning into Hardison a bit.

“We’ve missed you too, sweetie, but you’re doing just as good as we knew you would.” Sophie came over to hug her tight for the three seconds Parker was okay with. She might have even hugged back. “Now go have fun with those new partners, and send us video. Those are always fun to watch!” 

“Working on that,” Hardison said, with just a touch of humor and pride in his work. He saw them out, letting Parker have a moment to adjust, then came back up with the pizza she loved, pepperoni and pineapple with no sauce on a New York crust.

“Are you guys even tracking?” Eliot growled through the comms, making Parker grin.

“Eliot, you wound me. After all these years, man. I got you!” 

She let their bickering fade to background, turning a bit to focus in on James. Maybe she should be there with him? No, she trusted him. And this was his choice. Comms had to be enough. 

~ ~ ~ ~

James wanted to run. He settled for standing behind Steve and Natasha on the elevator. The AI was silent, which he appreciated. He was getting used to her voice, but it still unsettled him to hear it. 

The elevator stopped where it did before, on the 74th floor. When the door slid open, it was the same hallway he’d seen the day before and the day before that. But the woman who stood there was different. He could see Rebecca in her face, almost blurred at a halfway point between his sister Rebecca and the younger Rebecca. Steve immediately stepped out to give her a hug, an implicit mark of acceptance between them.

“Hi, I’m Gwendolyn. You can call me Gwennie, everyone does.” Her voice was an echo of her daughter’s too, when she stepped forward and held her hand out to him. 

He took it, almost dazed. “James. Just... James, please.” Her hand was warm, firm. Callouses imprinted on his memory, bringing tears to his eyes. Without thinking, he said, “You look like mama.” 

“I told her that too,” Steve said softly, standing just out of range. Natasha had already gone down the hallway and he could hear her voice as she greeted Rebecca.

“Mom always said it too. Said I looked more like family than her own son.” She smiled, stepping back as an invitation to follow her. He did. 

Warm bread and the smell of pasta wafted down the hall, reminding him that he was hungry. He found his feet moving as Gwennie led him forward, then he was hugging his sister again and easing into the seat between her and Steve. And he was smiling. Family.

James caught Steve’s eye and smiled, swallowing down the emotion. Beneath the table, Steve squeezed his hand in reassurance. Everything was okay. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Rebecca cursed the cab as it darted past, then fell against Beth’s shoulder as they both laughed. “Yeah I’m home again. Maybe you should just take the train?” 

“I don’t think I’ll get a cab in this weather right now,” her friend replied. The wind was shredding her curls but she didn’t seem to care. Rebecca always envied that about Beth. She was so free. 

“Okay then,” she turned, placing herself in her mental map of the city, then pointed to their left. “Thataway!” 

Beth just laughed and fell in beside her, linking their arms together so they could share heat and block the wind for each other. It was actually calming to hear the clack clack of her stiletto heels on the pavement. “You guys gonna go upstate after this?” 

“Probably. James wants to. And I miss Tolya, if that makes sense?” Rebecca smiled to herself, leaning into Beth. “I’ve missed you too. No one in the world quite like you, yanno.” 

Beth laughed as they crossed the street. “Of course not! I intended it that way. You sure you don’t wanna go with me instead of meeting up with your mystery man?” 

“Want to, oh yeah. But I promised.” Something in the back of Rebecca’s mind wiggled loose, now that she’d seen Sophie at work. Beth had no family, no other ties beyond the ones at the tower and from the bistro before. And yet Rebecca had never wondered. Had never asked where she was from other than what part of New York she lived in. She knew Beth had been from somewhere before. Just… somewhere.

Rebecca took a breath to ask as they stepped back up on the curb, then turned to glare when she heard the screech of brakes behind them. Stupid New York drivers. 

The door of an unmarked van swung open and four men jumped out, grabbing at both of them. They wore black, with masks over their faces. She heard screaming as she threw the first punch, then the air itself turned sour tasting and things went fuzzy. She turned to reach down the street. They were so close to where she was going to meet him. Was he watching? 

Rebecca didn’t know, didn’t have a chance to find out. The van door slammed shut and the world went dark.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

James was helping Steve carry plates to the kitchen when Friday interrupted their conversation about dessert. “Agent Romanoff, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark is asking you to join him downstairs.” On the wall, a projection flickered to life, showing a stooped, curly haired man standing in front of the security desk. “Dr. Banner is asking for you.” 

“Banner!” Steve asked, turning to peer closer at the projection. Friday zoomed in as the man turned and looked straight at the camera. 

“It’s him,” Natasha said, rushing down the hallway. “James?” 

“I’ll come along. This could be interesting,” he replied, turning towards the elevator after putting the dishes down on the counter. Rebecca appeared in the doorway, frowning. “I’m sorry. I need to go with Steve,” he told her, stepping forward to hug her tight.

“I know. You never could stay out of his fights.” She kissed him on the cheek, then patted his arm, whispering into his ear. “Rebecca is friends with Bruce too. Go for her, since she’s not here.” 

James nodded, remembering the conversations he’d had with his great-niece over the past few weeks. Then Steve was pulling him to the elevator, Natasha right behind him. He could almost taste the nervous energy coming off them. 

Somehow, the elevator had gotten faster. They were on the ground floor only a fraction of the time it took to go up. The first person they saw was Stark exiting another elevator, stalking straight for the security desk. 

Banner had stepped back from the counter so that he was standing alone in the lobby. His coat was a little too big, allowing him to tug at the sleeves as he watched the four of them advance. “Uh, hi. Again.”

“Where the fuck have you been, buddy? I’ve been looking all over for you!” Stark yelled, stalking right up to Banner to skid to a stop a mere foot away. 

“I’ve been… around. That’s not important right now.” Banner turned to look at Steve, worry twisting his pale face. “Rebecca’s been kidnapped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Hello Bruce! And yes, he's the mystery person Rebecca's been texting since the end of her fic. *halo* why? It'll come out soon, don't worry. 
> 
> I didn't directly quote any particular episode.. Although the "I can't believe that worked," has been said by Maggie and by Tara in several episodes.   
> The jade panther, however, is an oblique reference to the Ho-Ho-Ho job, and her Christmas tree decorations. That was S3E14. :)


	26. Trading Secrets

“We were gonna meet up after her thing with Beth. Just to touch base. I was watching for her on the street. That’s when I saw it,” Bruce said. He hung his head, eyes flickering to the side.

They were in Tony’s lab. It seemed the best place to go to. Steve and James were pacing, while Tony sat back and stared. It was Natasha that sat with Bruce. James wasn’t sure what he been expecting, but Bruce definitely was not it. At least, not this humble, shy, broken person. 

Friday was searching the camera feeds that they had tapped into. Something about this didn’t feel right. He stopped pacing for a bit turning to stare at the computer. “Nat, could I use a computer?” 

James didn’t feel up to making the request from Tony. The billionaire was trying his best to pretend James didn’t exist right now. “I have an idea, but it will take some trust.”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked. James could feel the weight of his presence at the shoulder, but he didn’t turn around to answer.

“With Tony’s permission, I’m going to let Hardison in to the system.” He turned a little and looked up at the ceiling. “Or rather, with Friday’s permission.”

“Wait, wait, what?” Now Tony was looking at him. There was a bit of panic in his eyes as well.

James held up the flash drive he always carried ever since he met the Leverage team. “This is Hardison’s program. It will let him into your system and share data,” he turned a little bit, looking out the window. “Right, Hardison?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you would do this on the day I can’t really play.” In his ear, he could hear Alec shifting around. “What do you have in mind?”

James flexed his metal hand, thinking slowly. “They’ve already gotten into the camera system, but we can’t find anything. I’m thinking Hardison can do better.”

“If that is all that he will be doing,” Friday answered, “but I will be making sure he doesn’t get too far.”

Parker spoke up next. “I think Bobbi, Eliot, and I can finish up the con if you need Hardison.”

“Probably. Nate’s already switched out the paperwork and everything,” Eliot replied. “It’s down to the distract and switch part from here anyways. Hardison can probably manage both from his nest. Pretty sure Lance has connections we could use too.” 

“I want to see the footage when you find it,” Lance popped in. “See if I can ID these fellows, or maybe Bobbi can.” 

James turned to look at Tony, keeping his face as neutral as he could, then cocked his head in question. Hardison had theorized that Friday was already tapped into their comm systems by now. 

“Okay fine. But once this is all over, we’re doing a thorough scrub of the systems!” Tony said, while turning to his own screen. 

“Thank you,” Steve said softly, even as James plugged in the drive.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Parker was so proud of James thinking everything through. His hunch paid off within ten minutes, Hardison had narrowed down the possible footage to give them three different views of the kidnapping. One was a security camera half a block away, one was an ATM camera from across the street, and the third was a traffic light right on that corner. 

“No license plate, and this was professional,” Lance added from his corner. “Pretty sure those are gas masks, which would explain both girls going limp so fast.” Malaya had claimed his lap as satisfactory while James wasn’t there, which made Parker happy. Usually she had to pull the cat out of her gear bag at least six times.

“I think it makes it worse that they took Beth with her,” Natasha murmured. Parker was watching over Hardison’s shoulder and could see the screen labeled Natasha’s magnifying and manipulating the footage as best as she could. “I don’t think we’ll get a ransom notice. This feels like Hydra.” 

“I agree,” Bobbi spoke up next to Lance. “I remember those types of masks when I was inside Hydra under cover after Shield fell.” A long second later, she added. “Long story, tell you later.” 

“Right. We got this,” Hardison said, rolling over to squeeze Parker’s hip. “You got a short window, best use it well. Then we’ll call you back in to help, I promise.” 

Parker looked at the gear she had prepped, then over to Bobbi. Her hair was braided back and she wore all black, just like herself. The former Shield agent nodded at her, then winked. Their part would work just fine. 

“Okay. You’re sure this is where his vault really is?” Parker leaned in on the tracking screen, lining up all the little dots.

“Without a doubt. The pyramid tracker hasn’t moved at all. The Kachina’s packed up to go west with him tomorrow. Paperwork’s all done,” Hardison reported.

“Great, so let’s get this done as quick as we can,” Eliot growled from his hotel room. He was packing up and getting ready for his final show as well. “Then we can find Rebecca and bring her home.” 

“Are you sure we should finish the con?” Bobbi asked, her face drawn. 

“Absolutely,” Parker said. “We know Janda’s tied up with Pierce and Hydra somehow. Getting into that vault will prove it and maybe even give us a clue where they took Rebecca.” 

“Do it,” James growled. Parker shivered. His voice hit every bit of vestigial fear she had left in her. 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Shouldn’t we tell them downstairs?” Steve’s voice was soft, one large hand slipping over his metal one. James realized he was gripping the counter too tight, making the metal whine. He wasn’t sure if it was his hand or the counter that was doing the whining. When he forced himself to let go, there was a definite imprint in the shiny surface.

“Let’s find some answers first. Friday’s already got the missing person’s report in the police system for both Rebecca and Beth,” Tony said. “I… I don’t do well with the whole family thing. I hope you don’t mind if I step out of that part?” 

“If I was told that Tony Stark himself was searching for my daughter and that’s why he wasn’t there, I would be happy just to know it,” Bruce murmured, eyes on his own computer station. James wished he had a moment to ask Steve or Natasha what his triggers were. He did glance up at Steve, quirking his eyebrow. His friend shook his head no just slightly. Okay, that was good to know. 

“Yeah, but this is still my building and my city and both of them are gone without a trace. And I have nothing to punch or think through and you know how that goes.” James shifted to glance at Tony, keeping his surprise to himself. “So I’m going to pick on you, Bruce. I’m guessing Rebecca’s been your spy all this time?” 

“Yep. She’s my friend. You’re my friend. I needed space but I didn’t want to be too far away. She helped me balance that.” Bruce slid what he was working on back carefully, then turned to look at Tony calmly. “She’s been asking me to come back and help ever since you roped her into this three ring circus last year.” A flicker of the scientist’s eyes went to Steve for that one.

“You could’ve talked to us. C’mon Bruce, what happened?” To James’ surprise, a robot with the label Dum-E rolled forward, holding a screwdriver out to Tony. He took it without blinking and started twirling it in his fingers. Sensory toy, he heard Dr. Garner say in the back of his head. 

“No, I couldn’t. You have Wanda. Maybe not here, but as part of your group. I couldn’t… After Johannesburg, I needed space, Tony. I needed to get her out of my head my way.” 

“You think I don’t know how she affected you? C’mon Bruce, you’re one of the few people I understand! We all had our adjusting to do.” Tony made a frustrated groan, then sat up. “She doesn’t even do that anymore. Flat out refuses.”

“Some of you adjusted a little better than others.” Now Bruce definitely looked at Steve, then over to Natasha. “I’m sorry. I had to go completely off the grid to keep the Other Guy happy.” 

“Nepal, Australian Outback, Nunavut in Canada.” Natasha shrugged a little. “I know.” 

Bruce did a little bow to her. “Yeah, thought I caught yours or Clint’s signature sometimes.” He paused, turning to look around. “Where is he anyways?” 

“He and Sam are still out in Seattle,” Steve answered. “Could really use Clint, he knows New York differently than we do.” 

“Ah,” Bruce said softly, nodding, then turned back to Tony. “I was gonna meet up with Rebecca to plan out when the best time to re-integrate would be. All of you have major stuff going on. I was going to come in after this… thing.” Bruce turned towards James now, smiling shyly. “Hi, by the way. Glad you’re doing so well on this.”

“I really want to punch something right now,” James blurted, then laughed sourly and ducked his head into Steve’s shoulder. “I want her back.” 

Somehow, that was the right thing to say. Everyone calmed down a bit as Steve’s arms wrapped around him. His own Other Guy wanted to come out and take over everything. All this standing around not knowing was the worst part. 

“James,” Parker whispered in his ear. “I think you need to tune into my feed.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Rebecca’s head was pounding. A long time ago, the worst thing she could remember was the smell of her combat socks in Afghanistan. Now her mouth tasted like that memory. Her eyes were focusing just about as well as her head and she couldn’t move because of it.

No, she couldn’t move because she was tied to something. She could flex her fingers and toes a little, but barely. She still felt fuzzy, but it was fading with every breath she took.

She listened hard, but the only thing she could hear was something rustling across the room, and voices through a door. Rebecca opened her eyes carefully to assess her situation, just as she had been trained.

She was in some sort of reclining restraint chair. To her horror, there was a tray of medical instruments and small bottles of clear liquids prepped on a stand nearby. There was already an IV drip hooked into the vein in her elbow. 

Rebecca realized her mouth was nasty because of the gag holding her tongue down. It took a couple minutes to fight down the urge to throw up at the thought. 

More noise echoed through the room, softer than the voices outside. She turned her head as far to the left as she could, tugging against the strap as much as she could. 

Beth was crumpled in the corner, trussed and gagged just like herself. And for the first time since Rebecca met her five years in that job interview for the Bistro, Beth was furious. 

Rebecca really wished she could ask a question. Actually, a lot of questions. The gags prevented anything verbal, but they’d been a part of too many conversations held silently across a crowded restaurant for that to matter.

Rebecca did her best “what the hell” and “who” around her gag. Beth simply looked up at the ceiling. Obediently she looked up and immediately wanted to crawl into whatever dark hole she could find. The red emblem burned into her retinas immediately. Given the chair she was in, that was probably the point. 

She looked back at Beth, giving her the best “now what” she could. The ferocity of Beth’s growl made her blink. In those five years, she’d seen Beth give as good as she got, but never with a mean bone in her body. Although, given the circumstances, they were allowed, right? Rebecca nodded, giving a pointed “how” cock of her head.

Beth signaled “working on it” before going completely limp, as if the gas had kicked in again. 

The door opened and a red headed woman smirked in at her. The files that Steve had snuck to her about Marissa Pierce made her easy to recognize. “See? Completely docile. Not a thing she can do about it now.”

“Fine,” the man behind her said, coming into range to reveal the target of the con. Max Janda tugged at his suit to straighten the lines. “At least keep it under control until tomorrow. Then I’ll be in Seattle and well out of range. I don’t want to get caught in any mess you create.” A sneer crawled onto his face, making him uglier than anyone she’d ever seen before. “Between this one and that mutant in the other room, it’s going to be a disaster.” 

Pierce just laughed. “You won’t even know a thing about it, Max. Now go away. We’ve got work to do.”

The door shut as they argued, the voices going down the hall until another door shut to bring complete silence to… wherever this was. 

Rebecca looked back at Beth, both mouthing the same thing. “What mutant?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, despite the insult used there at the end, no X-Men shall peek into this. Mostly cause I got enough characters running around in this. 
> 
> I'm sure there's something else I need to add here. Brain's kinda out of order though, so all errors are mine. I'm kinda hopped up on cold meds and testing a new anti-depressant. Here we go, yeah? Sending hugs to all of you feeling the existential dread too.


	27. Changing Directions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have not seen Marvels Agents of SHIELD season 3, there are some minor spoilers in this chapter. Well.. maybe not kinda, but...

Janda’s private vault ended up being extremely well hidden. The security started at being a building that didn’t officially exist on land that wasn’t officially safe to be on. Hardison had gone on a mini rant about toxins and PCBs and insisted that they wear Geiger counters. 

“He’s very protective,” Parker had explained to Bobbi when her eyebrow had gone up over the little packet. 

The building that didn’t exist was once a mansion before being converted into an office complex, if Parker had to guess. It gave her little thrills to crack into, since she was pretty sure that no one else had in some time. 

Guards patrolled the lawn with machine guns and excellent communication. If she hadn’t brought Bobbi, it would’ve been a lot harder. But the ex-Shield agent had an instinctive understanding of patrol timing. Together they made it from the beach across the lawn and into the upper balconies. 

“Lots of security for a place that doesn’t exist,” Bobbi murmured softly, turning to watch Parker’s back as the thief worked her way through the security sensors.

“Funny how that happens with Hydra,” Hunter muttered over the comms. He was monitoring them so that Hardison could concentrate on tracking the van Rebecca and Beth disappeared into. 

“We’re in,” Parker whispered as she pushed the window up. She held it for Bobbi, then shut it tight behind them. Her guess about an office building bore out, but it echoed the richness of the office building in Midtown. “And yeah, this is the right place.” 

“Up or down?” Bobbi asked, watching her from the doorway. 

Parker took a moment to think, then nodded. “Down. It’ll be in the basement, and I’m guessing that’s been extended past the original. I’m thinking this place was built somewhere in the 1870’s.” 

Bobbi looked at her thoughtfully, then nodded. “That falls in line with what we know about the history of Hydra. The main families have been in it for generations. Including the Pierces, the Malicks, and the Jandas, among others.”

“Yeah, uh, speaking of that, I’m getting a message in from Daisy,” Hunter said on the channel they were currently sharing with the Avengers. “Stephanie Malick is confirmed dead. There’s questions about Daddy Malick’s health too.” 

Several reactions whispered through the communications. Tony had a short, sour laugh. James had a soft sigh of relief. Bruce had a confused ‘huh?’ but Natasha’s quick reply of “didn’t do it, not me!” made Parker laugh. 

“Okay, so that takes some things out of the equation. Does this count as separate heads?” Parker asked Bobbi. She wiggled her fingers in the air for emphasis, imitating the octopus tentacles. 

“Yeah, probably. All it means is we probably won’t bump into those two here. Anyone else is open game.” Bobbi waved at her to trade places, going to sit at one of the computers to dig around, popping one of Hardison’s flash drive into an open port.

“Find me ventilation,” Parker asked, closing her eyes to listen to the building itself. 

“Yeah, heard about your love of vents… oh.” 

Parker turned, frowning at the look on Bobbi’s face. Then she walked around to look at the screen. “Oh.” 

“The whole basement is one big vault holding a series of vaults. This is just taking things way too far,” Bobbi muttered. But she printed a copy and slipped Hardison’s drive free. “Some of those looked like lab spaces, level below it, you know.”

“You think Rebecca’s here?” Parker asked. Bobbi shrugged a little, but Parker nodded. She pressed her comm to make sure it was on the right frequency. “James, I think you need to tune into my feed.” 

#

Breaking into a vault inside a bigger vault was actually something Parker had done before. Twice. But this was with Hydra so it was a little different. Their gas release system was toxic, not merely knock out stuff. Alarms brought people who shot first, talked later. Bobbi wasn’t Eliot, so there was tension, but she was also pretty tough. And good at the quiet stuff. Real good. 

They heard the voices coming up the hallway a good ten seconds before the speakers came into view. Janda, with Pierce. The only place to hide was up, in the shadowed recesses of the vaulted ceiling. Bobbi managed it as well as Parker did. Between her, Maria Hill, and Sharon Carter, that Shield Academy must have been a really great school. They looked at each other as the two marks argued with each other, walking beneath them without looking up. In Parker’s ear though, it sounded like a riot as the Avengers scrambled to catch up with the tracking program.

“Baby girl, your time frame just got way shorter. Better hurry up,” Hardison warned them. 

“Slight problem.” Parker muttered back, face pressed to the ceiling to prevent sound echoing. More people, about ten heavily geared soldiers, went down the stairs beneath them.

“Looks like an entire Strike unit,” Bobbi added. “And they’re moving something.”

“How many Strike team members made it out?” Steve asked on the line, but Parker didn’t hear the answer. It didn’t matter. Her job was to get into that vault and get what they had come for. The Avengers dealt with Hydra, not Leverage. Some days, she was glad she was merely the best thief in the world. Their work was dangerous, yeah, but it didn’t get half as weird as the rest of the world did. 

Parker waited until she was sure no more footsteps were coming their way, then dropped to the floor. Bobbi followed her lead, all the way down the stairs to the first vault door. Sadly, the air shafts were a mere six inches in diameter. 

At the foot of the stairs, they could see a long corridor with multiple doors. At the very end, a loading dock door was clicking shut behind the footsteps they had heard. The two women looked at each other, then shrugged, making their way down the hall two doors at a time until they found the vault they wanted. Bobbi stood guard while Parker did her best to catalog the vault in less than five minutes. 

By the time the Avengers arrived on the front lawn, they were back down at the beach where Hunter waited with their getaway boat. 

~ ~ ~ ~

The mansion wasn’t anything special, to Natasha’s eyes. It was almost funny how cookie cutter it was to several Hydra family mansions she’d seen in Europe. Many of them were from the same era. The Red Room she had trained in fit the mold as well. She tucked that thought away as she settled the quinjet down onto the front lawn. 

“Guys, Parker said there was full security and a Strike unit. Why aren’t they coming out to greet us?” She asked, looking over the empty field. “Where did they go?” 

“Got that, Baby Winter. Wait does that make you Autumn?” Natasha rolled her eyes at Tony’s babbling, but she didn’t say anything. He always kept going anyways. “There were several trucks and something that flickered across Friday’s radar like a cloaking field leaving out the back. On it,” Tony replied. He and Rhodey had scrambled into their suits when Parker and Bobbi alerted them. Natasha hadn’t even known he was in town. He wasn’t quite an Avenger, but he was always there when they needed him.

Maria leaned in over her shoulder, adjusting the Captain America helmet. “I hate this thing. And I hate the way this feels. It’s a set up.” The modified shield Tony had made for her fit snuggly on her back. It made a soft clank when she leaned into the wall next to Natasha.

“If it feels like a set up, it probably is. Hardison, did you pull anything new up?” Steve asked over the comms. He and James were flying overhead, cloaked and ready to come in only if they had to. “Tony, we’re gonna follow you a bit. James is seeing that flicker as well. It’s headed north.”

“Working on it. They had a plan. I’m still cracking into their computers, thanks to the virus Bobbi loaded for me. It’s a completely different system.” 

“What are they up to?” Natasha murmured to herself.

“Whatever it is, I don’t like it,” Eliot growled. He was walking on the street away from his hotel. The moment Parker had finished with the vault, they’d decided to pull everything in. 

“Well, we didn’t get all dressed up for nothing,” Maria said. “Wanna go take a look around?” The grin she flashed Natasha was a very familiar one. It promised mayhem and protection from everything except Nick Fury’s wrath. And he wasn’t in charge anymore.

“Captain, it’d be my genuine pleasure.” Natasha smiled back, thinking of how Clint was gonna be mad at missing this.

“Crap, I’m never gonna get used to that,” Maria muttered, even as she turned to exit the quinjet.

~ ~ ~ ~

Eliot was nearly to the 24 hour gym where he’d stashed his emergency gear when he realized he was being followed. They were good, very good. “Well I found some of them,” he whispered into his collar as he pulled it up tight, pretending to block the wind. Three were following, and two were walking towards him, that he could see. 

“You need any backup?” Steve asked. 

“I’ll let you know,” Eliot replied, then stopped when one of the two oncoming guys stepped in front of him. “Hey, how ya doin?” 

“You’re going to need to come with us. Mr. Janda wants to talk to you.” The first guy was kind of familiar, then it clicked. He’d seen him act as a body guard for someone else at the auction. No, before that.

“I don’t suppose this involves more of that Dassai sake, does it?” Eliot asked, cocking his head as he looked up at the guy. He was about six foot one, blonde, broken nosed and obviously used to fighting. He also favored his left side and was standing with his right hand cocked to go first. 

“No, it doesn’t.” Eliot named him One, the guy next to him as Two. He’d sort out the others later. He heard them step up behind him, courtesy of the very distinctive tread on their boots. 

He cocked his elbow back into one of their faces, then launched the first punch into Two’s face. 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Right, Dassai sake, cross referencing with that dinner party now.” Hardison had Eliot on street cam in the corner of his monitor as he worked. The sounds of the punching and scuffle of bodies hitting pavement was soothing, common place. It meant Eliot was working and things were okay.

On his main screen, his encryption programs were running. On the second screen, he was running face recognition off of everyone at the auction, at that dinner party, and what Eliot was letting him see of the brute squad. 

Heh, brute squad. Hardison made a mental note to make sure Steve and James watched Princess Bride together. 

“Got it! He’s Scott Deschliesser, third generation Hydra. I got flags coming up from the Widow files as well as my other research. Sending all known associates to you guys in the air.” He flagged the files and sent them to James’ link.

“I know that name,” Steve growled. 

Natasha replied, “Yeah. He was part of a Shield Strike Unit.”

“He was on the Lemurian Star,” Hill added. “We reassigned him to Rumlow’s squad.”

One last grunt from Eliot’s comm to end the fight, making Hardison look back over to check on him. There had been six fighters, but now they lay piled up against the side of a building, onlookers staring in shock. “You know,” Eliot started. “We really gotta teach you people how to clean up your fucking messes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whups, sneaking in under the deadline! It's not midnight here!
> 
> I freely admit to stealing Clint's line from Avengers. I don't think he'd mind Tasha using it.
> 
> *leaves a basket of stressballs and a plate of cookies for everyone* Take care of yourselves!
> 
> Editing to add spoiler alerts! The fate of the Malicks, and several other things were last season of Agents of Shield. I'm kinda adhering to that timeline, for the most part.


	28. Counter Insurgency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing especially nasty "on screen" this chapter. Except for one person throwing up.

Steve had never really liked sitting back and letting other people take care of things. It’d only been the past couple years that he’d accepted that he’d never know as much as Tony, understand people like Natasha, or be as optimistic as Rebecca. He had faith and ideals, yeah, and he learned quickly, but he had three decades of living in this century to catch up on. 

So he had learned to sit back, and trust in people that had earned it. ‘Course, the only thing that made sitting up in a plane circling overhead and not tearing things apart was that he was with James.

That bit might never stop being amazing to him. 

James was not as settled though. He twitched from panel to panel, muttering to himself in a variety of languages. Steve wondered if he was conscious of it. Then Steve realized he was actively searching his memories. “Have you been here before?”

“Maybe?” James turned to look at him, the corners of his eyes and brow creased. I remember a long set of rooms. I don’t think there was a chair here, just… labs.” 

Labs could mean anything, really. From dissection to quality control, from what he had read before. Steve nodded, then reached over to squeeze James’ shoulder. “Rebecca’s tough. And she knows we won’t give up. She won’t stop fighting. She’s devious in her own way, you know.” 

James snorted, turning to another monitor. “She had to be, to keep secrets like Bruce from Natasha.” 

Steve laughed a bit, turning to his own monitor, tracking that flicker that popped up now and then. “And the rest of us. Makes me afraid what else she knows that we don’t.” 

Bruce popped in over communications to interrupt. “Don’t count Beth out either. That girl’s got a bag full of secrets as well.” 

“A spy?” Tony asked warily.

“No, just… I get the sense that she’s got a past she’d rather kept buried,” Bruce said, reassuringly. “She passed all the background checks, before and after Hydra.” 

“She lived in my building long before she went to yours,” a new voice cut in.

“Clint! Are you headed this way?” Natasha asked.

“No, we have a slight situation here as well, but Sam and I have it under control. I’m just vouching for Beth.”

Eliot jumped in before Steve could ask. “What kind of situation?” 

“Oh, someone tried to breach your headquarters. Didn’t go so well for them.” A video cut in on Steve’s screen, a group of figures dressed in black tied up and under guard by DA and Alice. “I’m with Shield to pick them up and take them to be processed.” A short pause, then Clint added, “Someone really loves tasers and icer guns around here.” 

James merely grinned as Hardison laughed and Parker giggled over the comms. 

“Well, that’s good to know, but we have something here,” Hill interrupted. 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Bobbi had sent over the schematics that she had lifted while in the system, which really sped up the search for Maria and Natasha. The smaller shield that Maria carried was as effective as Steve’s original shield. It was great for knocking people out and smashing through security doors. Natasha’s own shield was slightly heavier, but training had left them wickedly efficient with either one. A decade of working together didn’t hurt either.

“It looks like they’re working on their own version of the serum as well, but for new subjects. There’s a lot of bio looking stuff I’m sending to Bruce.” The Russian stuff she skimmed through, frowning. Maria was at work at another computer, occasionally taking a moment to kick the scientist she had knocked out, hoping he’d wake up again to interrogate. 

“Getting it now, thanks Natasha,” Bruce replied. A couple moments later, he said, “It looks like bio interface. I read through the files on James’ arm, it looks a lot like that. But not as deeply integrated.” 

“So, they’re going for body modifications again. But why?” Tony murmured.

“The test subject they called CB-1 seems to have a lot of surface nerve damage. Maybe to reroute on that? I could see why they need the serum. No way an unaltered body would survive this.”

“Why did they grab Rebecca?” Maria asked.

“They tried back in Seattle. One of the operatives had indicated it was because of what she knows,” Steve replied. Natasha winced. That had been a mess.

“So they think she’s the weakest link with the inside scoop on all that bio stuff,” Clint said. Natasha was glad he was on the comms. His voice helped steady her nerves, even if he wasn’t the one watching her back. “Makes sense.”

“But where are they going? And do they still have Beth?” Steve asked.

Maria shot her a knowing look, then nodded. “Yeah, they’ll keep her for leverage, to make sure Rebecca cooperates.” 

“Fuck,” Tony said. “She ah, also has full access to everything. Friday, please track all remote access into Stark Industries and the Avenger Academy.”

“Yes, Boss,” The AI replied on comm. Beside her, Maria was shifting to pull out her own private phone. 

“Cameron, I need you to get to Vassiliev’s room. I’m putting the Academy on lock down but I want you with him. Is Dr. Garner on site? Get him in there too. Prepare for any possible breach. And Cameron? I’m sorry, it may be Rebecca doing it. Sending you and Kapoor in security all the details.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

The chair Rebecca was in rolled, which put a dent in her first escape plan. The next room they were taken into was long and narrow, then started moving. The back of a truck, of course. Two dinky looking men were playing with syringes and injecting things into her IV feed while Pierce watched silently. Two other people were blocking her view of Beth, but from the sounds it seemed like they were strapping her down to a chair as well. 

“How long?” Pierce asked, playing with something on her necklace.

“Another few minutes or so,” one of the dinky techs said before flashing a light into her right eye. She tried to wince away, but the head strap kept her from moving far. 

“Right. I’m going to check on our other patient, be right back.” Pierce went into the other half of the trailer lab, and Rebecca could hear the rumble of a deep voice. It was slightly familiar, but that could mean anyone. Well, anyone she had met before Steve took down Shield over James a few years ago. She hoped.

“Deciding what to say during an interrogation helps you keep from blurting out the things you don’t want to say. If you can stay silent, that’s best. But if you can’t, give them just enough truth to think they’re getting it all.” That was Natasha’s voice floating up from a memory. There were a lot floating around in her head and it was getting harder to track rationally. Okay. So what to say. 

“You know, I always wanted to go on American Idol,” she murmured to the ceiling, then launched into the loudest rendition of her favorite Lily Allen song “Fuck You” that she could around the gag. 

Across she could hear Beth’s soft laugh before she joined in.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Eliot didn’t want to admit it, but he was impressed at the Shield agents who came to pick up the six guys he’d bagged and tagged. Police interference had been minimal when he flashed the Shield badge Parker had lifted for him. In New York City, that badge carried a lot of respect with it.

His next stop was their city base, once he’d lost the tail that Shield had assigned to him. “Okay, show me,” he said, dropping his coat and sliding into a seat next to Hardison.

“They’re headed upstate. We think they want to use Rebecca to break into the Academy and lift all the research. I’m cracking through that cloaking program but it’s pretty tight coding.” There were two empty soda bottles beside Hardison. Eliot silently picked them up and replaced them with a fresh one.

“What about Janda?” Eliot worked best knowing all the variables. They all did. Only rarely did they break a job up in three separate parts, and that was when they thought their security was leaky.

“He’s on a private jet back to Seattle tonight. Out of the way. His personal luggage is being shipped via Delta tomorrow. Hunter is making his run on that now.”

“He’s definitely wanting to put space between them if he’s not waiting for his goodies,” Parker said from Nate and Sophie’s hotel room. They were going over the con postmortem to see if there was anything else they had missed. Eliot put the probability of salvaging this thing at 55% at the moment. 

“Well, that could work to our advantage. Any changes on his business fronts?” 

“Nope. He’s gone silent on all his networks.” Hardison hadn’t changed the screen in front of him, but the one in front of Eliot flipped to give the usual trace reports. 

“Eliot,” Natasha called out. “You want to go check something for me? I need someone in the city that likes to punch things.” 

“There’s a whole discourse behind the like and the punching that you and I should have some day,” Eliot growled back. “But what’s up?” 

“We just found a factory with some interesting job descriptions over by La Guardia. Sending you the data now.” 

“Right. Bobbi, you wanna tag along?” Eliot read through the file quickly, then tapped at Hardison to explain only a few things.

“Yeah, on my way. I hate the sitting around and waiting part.” Bobbi was already in motion after dropping off Parker. He’d wait and let her drive while he prepped. “What are we looking at?” 

“Another lab, looks like. With those body mods and some decent security.” 

“Oh goodie! I didn’t get to punch enough people today,” she replied, making him laugh for the first time since Bruce showed up.

~ ~ ~ ~

Bobbi was glad she was free to do this recon with Eliot. Since her under cover stint as Hydra’s head of security two years ago, she had put in a lot of time studying their methods. Only Jemma had put in more time than she had. She really wished the scientist was available now, but Hive took precedence for Phil’s team. 

“Is it just me, or do they seem busy to you?” Eliot muttered. They were currently on a rooftop nearby to scope out the physical while Hardison took a break from the cloaking hack to take an electronic look. Bobbie was doing her best not to hold her breath. The smell riding the wind from the nearby waste recycling plant was killing her enjoyment of the snow. 

“They are busy. Energy readings are on an uptick and there’s a lot of digital chatter in and out. Getting tons of new traces. Parker, I have a new site for you to investigate, once you and Nate are done being evil.” Bobbie had to swallow a laugh at that. Their views on evil and hers weren’t matching yet.

“Nate’s not evil! That’s Sterling!” Parker replied. “What do you have?”

“Two phone calls going to a number labeled oddly, but they smell like Janda to me.” The address Hardison gave caught her attention, and from the looks of it, Eliot’s too. It wasn’t too far from where they were.

“If you get done there, hang around for me and Bobbi, we’ll team up if we need to,” he murmured after Hardison was done, shifting to watch lights on the main road going past this block of factories. 

“Will do. Stay safe. I don’t like this.” Parker signed off after that, leaving them to think about it.

“Neither do I,” Eliot replied, then pointed out headlights to Bobbi. “Looks like a delivery being made.” 

It was a semi-trailer, with the name of one of the local transportation companies on it. It ran loud like a refrigerated trailer would. “Maybe bio supplies for that CB-1 project? I wanna get in and take a look around.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

The truck slowed, then then turned a corner. Rebecca was trying to get her thoughts to focus on the next song, but she was tripping over phrases now. The sounds of the road outside changed, then died off as they stopped. 

Pierce walked back into view, this time with a second person. He was huge, and scarred like he’d been caught in a fire. “Can’t wait to get to work here.” His voice was raspy and deep, the same one she’d heard in the other room. 

Rebecca tried to say she knew him, but the gag was getting too annoying. The dinky techs got in the way then, unhooking the chair from the blocks to roll her out the back door into a large warehouse loading bay. The main door was still closing, but not fast enough for the wind to tell her exactly where they were.

“Ugh, gross! Bowery Bay!” Someone popped the gag loose and she took advantage of it and the loose head strap to throw up on their shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Rebecca sings is my dedication to Trump and the whole GOP. They can all go get bent. [Lily Allen - Fuck You.](https://youtu.be/7gqFZjfFGuM) Fun fact, she originally dedicated it to George W. Bush.
> 
> I've noticed a couple readers haven't commented as much of late, and I just wanted to say I understand. It's a difficult part in the fic and mixed with our current climate, it's hard to deal with. The fic will still be here when you want it. I've been doing a lot of re-reading of my favorite fluff and comfort fics too. I do hereby solemnly swear that I am up to no good.. wait... wrong 'verse. I do solemnly swear this fic will end happy. Ya'll take care of yourselves, okay?   
> ***ETA*** I didn't mean to call ya'll out, okay?? I'm just worried about you. It was a PASS not to comment until you had time. ;) *leaves more cookies* 
> 
> *leaves out big fluffy blankets and pillows along with the usual stress balls* 
> 
> **spoilers!!** Also, for those who are Leverage fans but not Marvel, Mr. Big Bad that was previously insulted as the mutant is Captain America's former Strike Team Leader Brock Rumlow, who literally stabbed Steve and Natasha in the back when he turned out to be Hydra.


	29. CB-1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: after effects of interrogation, nothing on screen. Second warning: Tony Stark's attitude. *halo*

The address that Hardison had given Parker led to a very deluxe condominium in Astoria. The kind of place that made her drool at all the hidden treasures waiting for her to find them. She bet herself that there were at least two Remingtons, a Degas, and a Michaelangelo waiting for her. Janda didn’t seem to like the post moderns or the impressionists. In fact, if she had to judge, she’d say the only -isms he went for were the surrealists and the realist paintings. That was funny to her, because if Hydra were any sort of people, they were definitely the deconstructivists.

She was wrong. It was two O’Keefes instead of the Remingtons. And she swore that Michelangelo was on the hit list of “lost in the war” art they’d put together as a team. Sophie had specialized in such paintings for a while, especially with the hidden masterpiece cons that she had run. Parker took careful pictures of each artwork, sending them to Hardison to catalog for her when he had a chance. 

The only rooms that actually looked lived in were the kitchen and the bedroom. The food stuffs were a lot of the same things Eliot had fed James at first, high protein shakes and heavy simple carb foods. Things Eliot ate himself when he was recovering from a particularly bad fight. 

The bedroom revealed the first clue that this wasn’t Janda’s personal place anymore. There were several apparatus that she’d seen in highly specialized gyms, and a set of heavy weights. The smallest started in the fifteen pound range. The bathroom was huge, and the entire cabinet was covered in regimented medications and supplements. The shower had specialized soaps and shampoo for burn victims. “All this is so weird. Whoever it is, they hurt. A lot.” One range of drugs were pain killers alone. None of them had been labeled with a name though. 

In the bedroom again, she investigated the computer and pile of books. They were copies of the same books that James had been reading, on Erskine and Rogers and the serum. “Oh, I got it. This is their patient. He’s worth enough to them to put up in pretty swank digs.” 

“Wait, tell me those books again?” Bruce asked over the comm. Parker hated that they had so many people with them this time, but she complied. “Yeah, I ah, I think I wrote two of those.” 

She turned a book over and saw a very mild looking, curly haired man with glasses that never seemed to stay up high enough on his nose to be effective. “You’re cute, Doc.” Parker put the book down and rummaged on the computer’s files. “Wait, who’s this guy?” There were a whole lot of photos in this folder. Handsome, in the thuggish way, with dark eyes and hair and in Shield uniforms half the time. She picked out the clearest headshot and sent it to everyone. 

“Rumlow,” Steve and Natasha said immediately, followed by James’ “Asshole masochistic...” And then spun off into words not even Eliot used. It was impressive. 

“So, he did survive the Triskelion,” Natasha said, over the muttering coming from James. He was using up all his words for the month. “Looks like they want the serum to start over with him as their new fist.”

“He’d be a good candidate. He packs a punch,” Sam said. “Parker, send me a pic of those medications and I’ll put together a profile for you guys of his possible condition.” She did as he asked, knowing that Friday and Hardison both were also copying the files. 

“He’s probably CB-1,” Maria added, cutting through their chatter. She and Nat were leaving the headquarters, letting Interpol have it since their own resources were getting short. Natasha herself had reported the find directly to Sterling. That would keep him busy until they were ready for him later.

“The good news is,” Hardison murmured, keyboards clacking in the background. “He regularly charges his cell phone with that computer. And I’m tracking his GPS now and,” a short pause, then his voice changed. Parker immediately checked all exits and proximities by the tone alone. “Eliot, he’s in that warehouse you’re looking at.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

In the time that Eliot took to look at Bobbi and see her looking back at him, Stark, Rogers, and Hill had all started rallying to converge on that point. “Parker, don’t come over here after all. I have an idea. Do you still have your Shield tracker?” 

“No Eliot, I decommissioned that and threw it into the river like you told me,” Parker’s voice was light with amusement. 

“Right, so you don’t have it there to plant for us.” He tsked softly, smirking at Bobbi’s confusion. “Miss Morse, care to go in?” 

“Why do you guys get to have all the fun? Do you have any idea how boring it is over here?” Hunter complained. 

“Hush, Lance, I’ll get you later. You know that,” Bobbie said, smiling and nodding at Eliot. She let him lead. Eliot hated to admit it, but he already felt comfortable working with her. Her training had given her the same confidence that grifters had. But really, wasn’t that what spying was at its heart? Playing the con to get into your inner circle of defense so they could steal whatever it was that they came for. 

They couldn’t really blend in with the guards here, they were all wearing some sort of standardized uniform over fight gear. It was easy to pick out the stylized octopus on the shoulder, stitched in silver this time. He shuddered and mimed retching, but kept going, pausing in an office to pick up lab coats to blend in. Glasses and a rubber band came out of his pocket to help him slide into a character, even as he picked up a couple clipboards, scanning the documents quickly before handing one to Bobbi.

They started arguing about the science of those documents in French the moment they stepped out. Bobbi’s hair was still in the braid from earlier, and she wore a pair of glasses she picked up somewhere. They didn’t head directly to the hub of activity, choosing to go across to a set of offices nearby. Bobbi found stairs to go up and look over. 

There wasn’t much to look at. Everything was going in and out of a smaller set of doors across from them. Occasionally, he caught a flash of red hair. “Definite spot to check out, I think I just saw Marissa Pierce.” 

“Can you get us eyes on site?” Natasha asked, even as he was plugging Hardison’s magic drive into a computer.

“Handing everything over to Hardison. Parker?” Eliot watched while Bobbi made herself a nice little sniper’s nest across the table at the window. “Where did you even carry that?” 

Bobbi only winked as Parker replied “I’m in place.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Beth watched Rebecca through her eyelashes. Worse, she listened as her friend started answering every question. Blood was trickling down her back under her flared McQueen dress. She’d never get to wear it again. That pissed her off just as much as the rest of this whole mess. 

She flexed her jaw, letting a soft whimper out. It wasn’t broken, that was good. She could work with this. They had taken her shoes, the lovely multicolored Louboutins that Grandma Becca had called Carmen Miranda shoes. 

Worst of all, she had failed. Beth only had one mission right now, and that was to protect Rebecca. The only thing that mattered now was getting her friend out of this mess. They were still breathing. It wasn’t over yet.

Especially since they were ignoring her. Everyone was taking notes and updating computer things while Rebecca spoke. It was the drugs, Beth knew. Making her watch Beth get hurt was only a focus point. To get past her defenses and let the drugs take over. They would wear off soon, and then they’d start again. 

“I didn’t think we were so close,” one tech muttered close by. Beth took a moment to look away from Rebecca. Cold fingers pressed to her neck and she stay limp, pretending unconsciousness. “Get the adrenaline ready. We need this one awake before her Pentothol dose wears off.” His hand brushed past hers as he checked the restraints. Interesting that he kept stick pins in the sleeve. So many that he wouldn’t miss one, she was sure. 

“That’s it!” one of the other techs yelled. “We can have it ready for testing in an hour.” 

“Faster,” the woman in charge said. She looked familiar to Beth, but she was having such a hard time placing her. The scar face, he was easy. The great Shield Traitor Rumlow. Even Cameron hated his guts. “I knew we missed something. Shield’s on their way.” She turned to Rumlow. “Gear up. I don’t know how much time we have, but we’re leaving.” 

“I’ll buy you as much time as I can, but I’m not letting you leave me behind. Not again.” Rumlow glared at everything in the room but followed her orders. Beth could hear his unsteady stomping steps down the hall. Everyone else was starting to pack up their notes.

“What about the extra?” Another guard asked, looking at her. Someone grabbed her hair and she winced, whimpering again and trying to squirm away. “She’s awake.”

“Keep her,” the woman in charge said. Something about her red hair was catching Beth’s attention. “She’s not just some waitress. I want to know why Shield assigned her to Barnes.” 

Beth looked back at Rebecca. They weren’t asking her questions right now. But the steel was back in her eyes as she glared at Beth. Crap. Busted.

Something rumbled loudly outside the building, then something else went bang really loudly. No one was looking at her any more. 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Subtle, Tony.” Natasha rolled her eyes even as she set the jet down in the hole Iron Man had just blown in the side of the loading docks. Bullets were already pinging off the nose of the quin jet, but she didn’t dare return fire, not without knowing where their people were. 

“As long as they focus on us, that’s what we need,” Maria answered for Tony. Steve and James were landing on the roof and coming down. “Icers as much as you can. I need someone to interrogate.” 

“Yes ma’am. And I will gladly let you do that,” Tony grunted, and they saw his suit fly backwards across the dock. “As soon as these bastards quit blasting ME.” 

Natasha put her comms on silent, then looked at Maria. “Why is it every time we go on a mission, I tell you that we need to get that asshole training? And yet every time, he never gets it?” 

Maria just laughed, then shifted to load her icer rifle. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Steve watched James’ face, hearing the faint buzz of the blocker his friend had asked for in his comms. He waited until James looked up, speaking slowly. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?” 

His heart swelled as James looked away, then back at Steve before nodding. “I know. But this is family. And if we get Pierce, we’re closer to being done with the whole fucking mess.” 

“Fair enough.” Steve shifted his shield and took the lead, trusting James to have his back just like he did in 1944. They both wore black gear that Clint had left in the jet. It was rather tight for Steve, but it looked good on James. Despite the color, it looked nothing like the strapped gear Hydra had outfitted him with. The only thing the same was the metal arm bare and open. The holo sleeve was tucked into the gun locker, in case they got out and came back.

The upper level was pretty empty, but the second floor was busy. “Eliot, what’s our status?” 

“Bobbi and I are holed up on the second floor across from where they’re holed up. We got them pinned down but not for long. Some crazy guy in an armored suit is out there. Iron Man has them busy out in the docks, where Widow and Hill are keeping them contained. I’d appreciate it if you come and take Tanky man out of the way so we can get in and see if that's Rebecca in there.” 

“Okay. I can do that.” Steve turned to salute at James, then dropped down through a sky light to land on a thug, pausing only long enough to throw his shield at the armored suit. It looked nothing like Tony’s, which was sleek and gleaming. No, this was bulky and black, scarred and twisted in spot, with a chalked X across the face plate.

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this!” Steve only had a moment to recognize Rumlow’s voice before the whole thing was slamming into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you guys are in luck! Tonight's update is a two-fer! More notes there.
> 
> OK sorry, so Tony's attitude isn't worse than normal here. I just wanted to put in a funny.


	30. Spiderlings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One minor warning, a character has a PTSD flashback for a split second.

Clint hated being on the other side of the country when action happened. He’d downplayed his part in the little scuffle that happened here, but he’d had worse fights over the last soda in a Shield commissary. And he liked Beth. She’d grown up in his building, kinda, and he felt a little bit responsible for her.

So he had glued himself to the command center of Hardison’s operations, helping however he could. He wasn’t Stark or Natasha, but he did computers just fine. He had a feeling that the only reason he wasn’t being kicked out was because the crew’s attention was elsewhere right now.

Clint had also made the executive decision to remote into the Academy’s security. They had taken the lock-down command seriously, and he was proud how fast they went to where they had trained for. Expecting no one to ever hit the complex simply because it was the home of the Avengers meant hanging their asses out in the wind. He and Natasha agreed. It would be hit because it was their home. Maria of course, planned accordingly. 

Three things happened almost simultaneously. Rumlow [fucking Rumlow, he thought] stepped out in some sort of masochistic souped up one man armored tank contraption; Hardison’s program managed to pull the last bit of the cloaking tech into consideration to reveal the bird that had gone unaccounted for; and the trackers for Vassiliev and the tech kid Klein that was assigned to him went offline. 

“Guys, we have a slight problem,” Clint murmured, fingers flying to pull up video of the lock-down suite while he tried to remember who was on base. Vision. Wanda had gone to visit Sokovia to help with the fund-raising for rebuilding. Clint was kinda glad she was out of this mess. Ultron had done a number on her too. 

“What kind of problem,” Maria asked between grunts. He could hear the clang of her shield over the comms. Nice. 

He got video just as he was about to answer. “We have a mole in the academy.” 

Hardison broke in just as he was about to finish. “Broke through that cloaking program. Very nice work by the way. But it’s headed upstate New York.”

“Right,” Clint butted in again. “They’re headed to the Academy to pick up the mole and whatever he can steal, including Vassiliev cause his tracker and his surveillance security are offline.” 

“Call Vision!” Steve ordered. 

Now Clint really wished he was in New York. This would be fun to watch. He still made the call. “Hey Viz. We’ve got a little problem.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Cameron was pacing around the room that acted as both Tolya’s living room and instruction area, depending on what head space he was in. The Russian was pretty volatile most days, but he’d been able to establish a baseline and stay with it more and more lately. Dr. Garner theorized that the longer he was away from Hydra control, the more things fell into place inside his head. Since the doctor also worked with James out west, it was a good theory to go with. 

“Cameron,” Tolya grunted from his shadowed corner. Lights hurt his eyes occasionally. He was working with a dimmed tablet at the moment, more English studies. Or maybe botany. The small herb garden along the window sill was his favorite occupation, after all. 

He was getting distracted. “Yeah?” he asked, still walking back and forth along the inner wall.

“I have idea,” Tolya said, making Cameron’s legs stop moving in surprise. Independent initiative was still hard for the former Soldier. “They might come for us, yes?” 

“It’s possible,” Cameron said slowly. He was more worried about Rebecca, and the absolute silence from the team as they searched for her. Between Rebecca and Maria, he’d seen most of the security set up here. Plus, you know, the Avengers lived here.

“They will get in. No place is perfect. I am proof there. I want you to have these words.” Tolya moved forward, handing Cameron the tablet. On it there was a series of six Russian words, spelled out phonetically.

“Tolya, I..” He started, intending to refuse. It wouldn’t come to that again. 

“I insist. You must Cameron. I do not want that again. I will not go back.” Tolya’s face was set in what Cameron thought of as Soldier mode. The memory of Rumlow standing behind him, the cold steel of the gun barrel against his head invaded his mind once more. His brain loved that memory. It was the crown jewel of his PTSD, after all.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed softly, locking the words on the screen. He’d do it because he was a coward and Tolya would be able to protect him. “But only as a last resort,” he promised. To himself and to Tolya.

A ghostly figure faded through the wall to resolve into Vision, wearing what everyone termed his battle image. Cameron really wanted to be the one who figured out the physics behind how the cape moved without air currents. “Agent Klein, Mr. Vassiliev. We have reason to believe that a breach is in progress. Would you like to move?” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Rebecca glared at Beth when the techs weren’t watching them. Her friend had a sheepish look on her face, and the minutest version of a shrug. Seriously, she had turned to Shield too? Was there not one person in her life that was safe from their interference? 

The counter serum from her fake tooth crown had long worn off, but the rest of the sodium pentathol was following pretty quickly. Enough that her anger made it easier to think straight. She’d spent the past two hours rattling off fake answers, but they’d figure it out pretty soon. She tongued the next crown, getting it to loosen up just in case.

Another explosion rocked the chair she was in, pushing it closer to the wall. The Avengers had come for her. Steve and James were out there somewhere, she knew it. 

“We’re not going to be able to move them in time. I say we take the girl and run,” someone said behind her. The dink who had been asking the most questions. “We’re so close.” 

“Working on it,” Pierce answered him. A soft whoosh came from behind and now she could smell diesel and engine grease. “But if we can’t, you wipe the computers and kill her. We can’t let them know how close we were. Kill the blond. She’s dead weight.” Another whoosh and the noises cut off again. 

Rebecca looked back at Beth in fear, but she wasn’t there. A strap swung loose on the chair, all the buckles undone. Rebecca only had a limited range of vision and Beth had disappeared from it. Okay, maybe letting her be part of Shield was all right, maybe. 

“Hi. We’re going to have to agree to disagree about that order,” Beth said from behind her. A hard thunk, a crash of an instrument tray, a soft wheeze as someone started having a hard time breathing. It only took the space of a breath before Beth was back in front of her, fingers tugging at straps. “Talk to me Rebecca.” 

She waited a whole three seconds until she could work her jaw again. “Why the fuck do you work for Shield and why didn’t you tell me?”

Beth laughed. “I don’t, and I didn’t tell you cause I don’t. I’m independent and I’m gonna fucking stay that way. C’mon, let’s go find those Avengers and let them know where Pierce went.” The last strap came loose and she was collapsing into Beth’s arms. The waitress had a gun, a nasty looking piece of work. She’d seen one of the security grunts wearing a similar thing on his hip. 

“I’m not sure I can walk,” she admitted, trying to get her legs under her. She’d willing go back to the desert to skip this. 

“We’ll make it,” Beth promised, pausing long enough to tie her blond curls to the back of her head. It made her look different, Rebecca mused. Must be shock. Had to be. Beth had never been anyone but Beth in all the years they’d known each other. 

The door opened behind them again and Beth whirled around, pushing Rebecca behind her. It was the older man, one directing the dinks who had messed with her. He stood still, his expression turning to delighted astonishment even as Beth raised the gun. His voice was light, almost caressing in the way he spoke. “Dushka, put down the gun. You’ve found your way back to us, haven’t you? We’ve missed you, our little spiderling.” His accent was light, but with her head clearing, Rebecca could hear the Russian in it. 

“Nyet,” Beth replied harshly. The ugly gun that Beth had picked up cracked loudly next to her ear, then the man fell to the ground with a gaping hole in his forehead. Rebecca stared at him as Beth drug her out of the room, gun first. 

“Spiderling. He called you spiderling. Oh my god, you were Red Room!” Okay, so the truth serum hadn’t worn off. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.” They turned a corner and found a shadow, Beth shoving her into it first before molding her body to Rebecca’s side. “I don’t remember anything past waking up under a building in Harlem eight years ago.”

Eight years.. Oh. “Fuck, they sent James after Bruce in Harlem, eight years ago. You got caught up in that?” 

“Maybe. I don’t know!” Beth looked into her face, make up doing nothing to hide the bruising. Or the tears. “I just know how to do things but I don’t like to. I really don’t like it, Rebecca. I just wanna go home now!” 

She hugged Beth tightly, nodding against the side of her head. “Okay. Okay we can do that. I hear Iron Man and War Machine out there. I bet Steve’s around here somewhere, maybe Natasha. They’ll get us out. We just have to find them.” 

Across the hall from their little nook, the wall disappeared with two large objects flying through it. One had very familiar red and blue stripes on it. “Or, you know, they’ll find us.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

It was probably the worst time to think about it, but really, Steve never could control his own brain during a fight. This time it was regret for all the damage they were doing. Especially as they went through another wall. Someday, he thought, it would be nice to have a fight where the collateral damage was minimal. No civilians hurt, no furniture broke, or walls and windows smashed through. No more Johannesburgs, especially. 

It’s totally possible to, he argued with himself. Look at Spencer! He went through just as many bad guys without breaking a single thing besides bodies. They’d even opened up a window above them instead of shooting through it.

Steve grunted at the spreading pain flair in his gut, then came back to the mechanized hammers that Rumlow was punching him with, slamming the shield down onto it. The metal crunched, but protected the servos well. So Steve bunched his legs under Rumlow to kick him off. “Come on!” He roared, standing up to brace the shield in front of himself. His answer was to be crunched through another set of walls. 

He saw a flash of two pairs of blue eyes staring at him, one very familiar. “Hey, I found Rebecca… whoops!” Then he was falling into the open refuse pit in the back of the warehouse, Rumlow’s machinery whining as he fell with Steve. 

“On our way!” Maria replied. “Just keep him busy!” 

Steve coughed, then rolled over to kick at Rumlow, feeling a touch of satisfaction at the grunt. “What do you think I’ve been doing?” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“I wouldn’t call it dancing,” James replied over the whine in his ears. He’d tried to follow Steve and Rumlow’s battle, but since walls didn’t mean much to them, his view got obstructed. Instead he’d satisfied himself by putting down anyone who came across his sights with the icer rifle. Over his head, Bobbi and Eliot were doing the same. 

But as soon as Steve said he’d seen Rebecca, James was jumping through the destroyed walls, looking left and right each time until he came face to face with a gun pointed at his head.

At the other end of it was Beth, Rebecca’s friend. And clinging to Beth’s side was Rebecca herself. Both of them were bloody and tear stained, which made him want to punch something all over again. Instead, he slid his rifle to his back and held out his right arm to them. 

Two bodies hit him at the same time, clinging tightly to the armor he’d borrowed. Another sob broke out from Beth and he wrapped his left arm around her too. He felt frantic as he tried to check them over at such close range. They seemed okay, just very relieved. “I’ve got them. I’ve got them both.” 

“Well, isn’t this sweet.” Something electrical flashed over his body and his comms went dead in his ears. He could hear the snuffling of the girls and the battle outside. And the click of a gun. 

James turned slowly to keep the girls behind him, glaring at Marissa Pierce sitting on the stairs just out of range. Then gun she carried looked like it had a big enough caliber to go through all three of them. In her other hand was an EMP gun, just like Hardison had. “Looks like I got what I wanted after all. Are you ready to go home, soldat?” 

James licked his bottom lip, then shook his head. “You had better shoot me. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I know that’s what you think. But you still have your training. Желание. Ржа́вый.” She was smiling. Why was she smiling? 

“No. No, stop.” James batted at his ears, wanting to hear the buzz come back, still staring at Pierce. Rebecca was shouting something from behind him. That helped. 

“Семна́дцать. Рассве́т.” She was standing up.

“No!” The asset awoke within him. Those were his words and he… and he… James closed his eyes, shuddering and trying to retain control over himself. Behind them, the girls whispered in fear, Beth trying to get the gun around him and get a clear shot.

The asset wanted something too. He… He… He wanted to go back to sleep. 

Something flipped over, and words became just words. _Just words._

James opened his eyes and laughed as she was saying the next one. “No. Those don’t work anymore.” He shifted, bringing up his left arm to protect the girls behind him. 

“Well that’s good to know!” Parker said, making all of them jump in surprise. She was on the stairs behind Pierce, dressed in black. Before anyone could move, she applied her taser directly to the back of Pierce’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, a two-fer! I hate leaving battles with this much suspense just hanging there. 
> 
> Lotsa different stuff in this one! I love Parker and her tasers. It's just not natural if she doesn't have one. 
> 
> **SPOILER** for the non MCU folks, The Red Room training overlapped a lot with the Winter Soldier in the comics. Not so much in the MCU but I'd already gone there. The four words at the end are the first four words in the 10 word sequence of Bucky's control phrase. Longing. Rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak. The rest, in case it comes up, are: Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight Car.


	31. Porcinis

“Okay Cap, it’s all yours,” Natasha said, standing on the edge of the loading dock. 

Steve laughed, stepping back away from Rumlow. As he thought, his ex-teammate took a step back as well, watching him. Steve drew an X in front of his own face, cocking his head. “CB. That stands for Cross Bones, doesn’t it? Never really took you for the pirate type.” 

“Shut up, Rogers. You never looked beyond the end of your nose anyways. That’s come in handy so many times.” Something was shifting inside the suit. Steve decided he needed to end this quickly. 

“All I was gonna do is give you the opportunity to surrender. We have the girls. Your techs. Hell, we even have Pierce. You’re finished.” Steve stood up straighter, shifting the shield.

Rumlow didn’t respond to him. Steve could hear a soft murmur as he tried the comms inside the suit. Then a soft rasping laugh came out of it, even as Rumlow pulled off his helmet, revealing a river of scars down both sides of his head and face. “You didn’t get everything, Rogers. And what you have, you won’t be able to keep.” 

Steve shifted, bracing himself for the attack that was coming. Instead, there was a soft buzzing noise as his comms went dead. He looked up, and the suit of armor was frozen mid punch, a mere two feet from him. A couple puffs of smoke came out of the back as something mechanical coughed and wheezed. Steve really hoped someone was recording this, because the look on Rumlow’s face was classic horror as he realized the suit was failing him. 

Steve looked to the side to see James sitting on a nearby ledge, a funky looking futuristic laser gun in his metal hand, pointed at Rumlow. “That guy never learns, trust me.” Steve nodded, pretending to think about it. The cursing Rumlow was doing as he tried to break out of the suit was amusing. Steve sighed, then slammed his fist into the ruined face of his former friend, knocking him completely out. It felt better than he wanted to admit to.

A loud clank sounded to his left as Tony landed. Steve tensed up, reaching out in case he needed to break them up, but Tony just reached out for the gun. “I want that! Gimmegimmegimme!” 

“Jeeze Tony, relax. We’ve got tons of them,” Natasha said. Overhead, a quinjet was taking off and heading north. Steve looked over at Nat, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“Maria and Rhodes are going to go see about this mole problem. Wanda’s on her way back from Sokovia, then she and Viz are going to interview everyone. They caught a squad led by another ex-Strike member on the back perimeter. Didn’t even make it through the fence.” 

“That’s good.” Steve took a couple steps over to drop down next to James, letting Natasha supervise moving Rumlow and taking him into custody. “We’re done here?” The suit looked obscene, next to Tony’s sleek system. And Rumlow inside of it as the squishy center was also unnerving.

“Here, yes. Debriefing and then we need to get back to Seattle to finish this.” James looked calmer, almost settled in himself. 

Steve couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss him softly. “Ugh,” Tony complained. “I don’t think that’s legal, is it? Was that legal? At their age? I’m not sure that was legal. I’m going to go play with tech toys that doesn’t kiss other things now.” 

Steve laughed as Tony clunked into the ruins of the warehouse. “How’s Rebecca and Beth?” He asked James.

“Good. They’re already in transit back to the tower to get checked over. Ready to go join them?” James replied. His arm was around Steve’s shoulder, and it felt like a lifetime since he could lean into that strength and just rest.

“Yeah. Yeah let’s go.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“And then Tolya finally gave me his code words. He was willing to let me use them,” Cameron said, looking up at her from the tablet in Rebecca’s hands.

“That’s awesome. Doctor Garner has got to be pleased with that.” She said, then took another sip of the green smoothie someone had shoved into her hand before letting her call out. 

“Yeah.” Cameron paused, just watching her on the screen for a second. “So I was thinking. We need a vacation.” 

“Yeah. Somewhere warm,” she agreed, smiling shyly. “Together?”

“Together,” he agreed, nodding. “It’s standard Shield protocol. Have to have downtime after every mission. This counts.”

Rebecca smiled at that, nodding. “Yeah, it sounds great.” Noise came up the hallway, then Beth slid into her little room with wide eyes. She wore blue scrubs identical to the ones Rebecca was currently wearing. “Looks like everyone’s back. I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“I may be asleep, but okay. Stay safe, give ‘em hell.” He smiled, reaching forward to touch the screen.

Rebecca smiled back, doing the same. “Always do. Sleep well.” The screen went dark, so she put it away and looked up at Beth. “What’s wrong?”

“I think they’re coming for me,” she said. Rebecca narrowed her eyes and held out the arm that wasn’t full of tubes and needles. Beth took the invitation and slid onto the bed, almost a little behind Rebecca as the door opened to admit Steve, James, Natasha, and, to her surprise, Bruce. Steve had a few bandages stuck here and there, and they all had taken the time to change into street clothes. They were also trading glances when they saw Beth was here with her.

Rebecca decided to go for the best part first, squealing “Bruce!” She held out her other hand to him, wiggling for him to come give her a hug. “I was afraid you’d ghosted again.”

“No, I couldn’t do that. I saw them grab you, so I came to get the team,” he said softly, kissing the top of her head. He left unspoken any temptation to let the Other Guy deal with the problem. If he hadn’t Hulked out, did that mean he found what he’d been looking for?

“You probably saved us. I have no idea where they planned to take us,” she said, trying to reassure him.

“Iceland,” Tony’s voice rang out behind them. Steve and James were shuffling and nudging each other out of the way until Steve won and plopped down on the foot of her bed. James sighed a little before slipping over next to Beth, watching them both like a worried bull dog. “First they were gonna work until their boat was ready, then take you off to Iceland to a nice little joint we get to destroy this week,” Tony continued, coming into the doorway with his tablet in hand. “Friday’s tracking a lot of new things, thanks to your friend Hardison’s work.” 

Rebecca turned to James. “Are they here? I want to thank them too.” 

Steve snorted. “Tony’s taking his time to make sure there’s no way they can hack him again.” He turned to glare at the billionaire, who merely shrugged. “But they’re coming.” 

Beth merely hugged her tighter from behind, and Rebecca realized she was glaring at Natasha. “Okay, so we’re what, debriefing? You guys better tell Beth she’s safe and not going anywhere, or we’re gonna get outta here.” She emphasized the pronoun as she took her friend’s hand and squeezed. 

“We’re just… We’re just trying to put everything together, that’s all.” Steve said. His voice was soft, that gentle way he had talking with anyone he cared about.

“I know. I won’t let you hurt her. She’s done nothing but save my life. She’s…”

“She’s a sleeper agent,” Natasha interrupted. 

“No! Not anymore!” Rebecca insisted. 

Natasha stepped forward, rattling off a couple phrases in Russian too fast for Rebecca to keep up. 

“No.” Beth answered. “I’m not that. I’m me! Only me to do what _I_ choose.” She sat up straighter, but still clutched Rebecca’s hand tightly. 

“What do you remember?” James asked softly. His face was filled with understanding, and maybe a little regret.

“I remember waking up in Harlem. Some people were digging me out of the rubble after a building fell on me. I don’t remember anything else before that. I just…” 

“You know how to do things. Like create an identity, fight with anything at hand, say the right thing to people to get into their confidence, and protect yourself,” Natasha asked softly. She was standing against the door, blocking Tony. To Rebecca’s surprise, he stayed out of it. But then, he wasn’t good with the icky emotional stuff.

“Yeah. But I don’t like to. I don’t do that, _ever_ ,” Beth swore. This close, Rebecca realized that at the roots of the masses of blond hair, it was tinged red. 

“Except to protect yourself,” Natasha finished. “That’s good. You took care of Rebecca for us. And… I saw the bodies of the dead. You might not have recognized him, but I did.”

“He was Red Room, wasn’t he?” Rebecca asked. Her heart was aching. 

“He was. I only knew him as Gregori. But the world is a better place without him in it,” Natasha confirmed, looking at Rebecca speculatively. 

Beth wasn’t answering, so Rebecca said it for her. “He called her Dushka, and spiderling. He said she’d found her way home to him.” 

Natasha started to say something, then closed her mouth, cocking her head in thought. Rebecca was used to that, so she’d let Nat do her thing. Cameron had explained the hierarchy inside the Avengers, so Nat was someone to watch out for. Right now, her silence was promising as she’d have the final say on if Beth was dangerous. She opted to change the topic next. “So we’re done with that. You got Pierce and Rumlow, right? And you’re gonna knock them out of the game for good?” 

“Yup,” Tony said from the hall again. “There’s a new prison being built. It’s called the Raft. Less you know the better. But they’ll be the first to enjoy its dee-luxe accommodations.” 

“What about Janda?” Steve asked, rubbing Rebecca’s shin. She didn’t have the heart to tell him how bruised it was already.

“Oh, we’ll take care of him,” James said softly. There was a dark look on his face, driven by satisfaction. Rebecca shivered despite herself. Great Uncle Bucky was gonna get some of his own back, it seemed. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Hunter was still sour when they picked him up from the airport. Eliot drove, mostly for the sanity, while Bobbi caught her husband up on the highjinks he missed. “Just saying, an extra gun always helps!” 

Bobbi ruffled his hair, then caught the name tag before he threw it out the window. “We needed you to make the drop. Which you’re so good at, infiltration and everything.”

“Right, I tell you, JFK is much easier to do than Shield. I’m just saying!” 

Bobbi paused, then smacked him across the back of the head. “OW! What was that for?”

“I like this gig. You’ll get your chance soon. If you don’t blow it for us.” She caught Eliot’s eye in the mirror, giving him a soft smile. Beside her, Hunter shifted. 

“Okay, okay. I just don’t like being left behind, you know that.” Hunter pulled her to him, offering a pillow to rest on. In the mirror, Eliot smiled and nodded, so she gave in. 

“Punk. Why’d I marry you?”

Hunter laughed and squeezed her shoulder. “Because my mushroom soup is the best!”

~ ~ ~ ~

The warehouse that Hardison had set up base in had a very nice loft. With a very nice apartment with an adequate bed. Adequate was easy to achieve for Parker when she had her boys. 

She woke up without them, but that was okay. She could hear the soft chop-chop of Eliot’s knife in the kitchen, and the soft clack-clack of a keyboard in the living room. The comfort she felt spoke loudly to her, even as she stretched and rolled out of bed. 

Three somersaults later, she came to a stop behind Hardison to hug him from behind, cheek pressed against a warm bicep. “How does it look?” 

“Everything’s in place. Ready to get back to Seattle?” Hardison turned to kiss the top of her head. 

“Mmmhmm. Hey, you did buy the building here, right?” Parker wrapped her arms around his waist tight, in the way Eliot had taught her when back flipping someone over. It was easy to lift him up, just enough to make his toes slide across the floor.

Hardison squawked a little, gasping melodramatically in his usual way. “Ye-yes! Yes, I did! Of course I did!”

“Good. I think we need a New York base now.” She relaxed the hold, taking pleasure of the way he didn’t squirm or fuss, just leaned back into her again. 

“Been talking about Eliot on that. With the extra firepower, we can take on a different tier of problems now.” He held the tablet up in the air before tapping at it again. “Doing research about possible jobs.” 

“Speaking of firepower, where is he? And will he be back before we fly back?” 

“He’s in his room. With Malaya and Steve. I am not going in there,” Hardison replied primly.

“Yeah, that’d be wise. Now get in here and eat and talk to me, you two.” Plates were being set on the table. The job was still looking good. And both her boys were safe. 

“Coming, Eliot.” Parker let go of Hardison to swing by James’ door. She paused, thinking to knock, until she heard their voices. No, it wasn’t time to interrupt them. 

But now she was wondering. They had Pierce in custody. The control phrases were bothering him less and less. They’d helped James figure himself out. They’d even gotten him reunited with Steve.

So did this mean the job he hired them for was done? And if so, what came next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so the title ties into Hunter and his mushroom soup. Fans of Agents of Shield already know the ep, but for everyone else, to the youtube! https://youtu.be/-YLRBD_4k64
> 
> Yeah, I know. sooo many plot threads bouncing around. Trust me, I'm weaving as fast as I can!


	32. The Prestige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random spoilers for season 3 of Agents of Shield, the Hive story line. Explanations in the end notes for everyone else.

Steve didn’t want to admit to anyone, but the time changes between New York and Seattle messed with his mind a little. It was supposed to be dark at 8 pm. But it was still 5 and the sun was barely there but still bright enough to look out at the building across from James’ apartment. 

“You’re thinking awful hard,” James said from the kitchen. His left arm reflected what light was on in the apartment. Steve felt privileged that James was comfortable enough not to cover it up around him anymore. The undershirt he wore even let the scars peek out a bit. He reminded himself not to stare. Or grit his teeth.

“Just trying to figure out how this is all going to work. There’s a lot of moving parts that have to hit at the right time.” Focus back on the job. That’s what he was best at.

James just smiled, wiping his hands dry before coming out to him. His hair was pulled back in a little pony tail, making it easier to dip in for a quick kiss. “Told Hardison you’d want to know the hows. C’mon, he’ll walk us through it all.” One warm hand slid into his and tugged him out into the common room. Malaya jumped onto James’ shoulder from the cat tree. Steve found that he didn’t even mind the tail swishing in his face. Mostly, didn’t mind. Not if she made James happy. 

#

“So tomorrow morning, Janda’s gonna realize he really only has a few options.” Hardison ticked them off on his fingers, the screens busy behind him. “One, run. That’s what a smart person would do. It’s what I would do, disappear completely. Two, he could try to bluff his way for a day or two, gather up intel and resources, like who’s still blackmail-able and how much rope is wrapping around his legs, then feint his way out of the bag. Or three, he could turn himself into Shield and give up everything he knows to save his own ass.”

Steve thought about that, then nodded. “You think he’ll do option two.” 

“Hell yeah. These guys we take down, they all have the same ego issue. They think they’re smarter than everyone else. They think they’re like us, puppet masters who do the string pulling. Their blindness to their weaknesses are what we exploit,” Hardison said. Parker and Eliot were gone for this, or Steve thought they’d have something to say too.

A piece of popcorn bounced off Hardison’s forehead. They both turned to look at Bucky sitting at the holographic table, smirking at them. “That’s why you have the other two, to keep you from falling into the same trap.” 

Hardison snorted, then pointed a finger at James. “That’s why all three of us have each other.” 

Steve smiled, reaching over for his own handful of popcorn. “Walk me through it.”

Hardison nodded, turning to pull up the display to show the hidden camera they had in Janda’s penthouse. The man was pacing and muttering to himself. 

“He’s going to weigh his options tonight, then decide he needs more information. He doesn’t keep anything at home. It’s all in his office. Very short sighted, if you ask me.” Hardison smirked, then tapped at the keyboard to bring up all his data points.

~ ~ ~ ~

Maxwell Janda was torn. The smart thing, the prudent thing, and the bold thing to do after this whole disaster turned out to be three separate options. The smart thing to do would be to disappear completely, reconnect with certain people in Europe, far away from the Avengers. HOW had Marissa caught their attention anyways? And did she manage to keep it from leading back to himself? 

He had to assume it did. They had the North Beach complex. No doubt they were tearing through the library and vaults one by one. Everything he had locked away there would eventually be decoded and tracked. 

It wasn’t fair. Max hadn’t asked to be born into Hydra! And he’d taken precautions since the Battle of New York to keep himself separated from their world domination games. If he had been in DC for the Triskelion meet like they had wanted… well. He wouldn’t be in Seattle now, trying to salvage what he could. 

The view from his penthouse was amazing. He’d chosen it specifically for the view of the Space Needle, to remind himself of everything he had avoided. Now with Stephanie killed by Hive, that thing from legend, he felt extremely wise in avoiding the family business. Marissa in captivity, Werner von Strucker killed by Shield, it was all coming down on him as one of the last of the Old Families. And the time of the Inner Circle was over. Let the new blood take Hydra and warp it into their ideals now. He was DONE.

Prudent and bold. Keep all the secrets he’d amassed about the others, and turn himself in. Max wasn’t a bad guy, not really. All he’d done was tech work for the rest and kept his nose clean.

Ruby, he decided. He needed to talk to Ruby and clean out the safe at the office. Thank god he’d gotten rid of the sensory alloy before this came down. The fact that Marissa had worn Stephanie’s face for that transaction had to have been a stroke of luck. 

As he dressed, he rehearsed everything in his head. This little side deal with Kitty on the art might come in handy. She had the connections to move things quietly, and he had a lot of things he thought should be out of his possession as soon as possible. All of his old contacts were now suspect and unusable. 

The one thing that truly puzzled him was Charlie Gibson and his people. Were they just the two bit con artists he’d uncovered, thanks to Kitty? Or was he actually Shield, trying to trap him on any charge that would stick?

The paperwork. He needed to read that with a careful eye to see exactly what was in those agreements, both the ones he got from Gibson, and the version he’d slipped in to take control of everything bought with Gibson’s money. He needed to go to the office, now.

~ ~ ~ ~

“How did you know that?” Steve asked, a bit amazed as they watched from the coffee shop in Janda’s own building.

“It’s what we do,” Parker said. “Now shush, this next part is my favorite!”

~ ~ ~ ~

“Ruby, I don’t know why you’re not answering, but you really need to pick up. This is urgent. This is Family business.” He hated to use that phrase. But Ruby was with the Inner Circle as well, if not as deep. If she had skipped town without telling him, oh… He would enjoy meeting up with her again to discuss that. She might not.

The lobby of the Rydr building was quiet as always. The gorgeous setting of the dugout had not been disturbed. He paused for a moment, gathering peace from it as he looked it over for any changes. It was as tranquil as always, and he could almost hear the shush shush of water against the wood of paddles. 

“Maxwell Janda?” That calm was broken by the English pronunciation of his name. Max turned to see a man in a silver suit, holding up a badge that read Interpol. 

“Yes, and you are?” He held out his hand to shake.

His hand was ignored. “Inspector James Sterling. I’d like to speak to you about some odd things that happened in the auction a few days ago at Sotheby’s. I think we met there.” Other people were coming up behind him. Enforcement type people.

“Is this about that con man, uhm...” He paused to fumble the name a little. “Gibson? Is this about him? Because I’m more than willing to co-operate in any way.” Janda turned a little, holding a hand out to the elevator, wanting to get this off the main floor. People were watching. 

“Actually, yes… and no. I was on site for a different reason, but bumping into,” the little man paused, cocking his head. “You call him Gibson? Yes, that was a nice piece of luck.” The man gave an odd little giggle, but he kept the reason to himself, turning to the group of agents. “I’ve brought one of our best art experts on our payroll in case some of your things needed to be inspected. Maggie?” A blonde woman in the group of waiting people turned and stepped over. “I’d like to introduce Dr. Maggie Collins. Dr. Collins, this is Max Janda.” 

The woman held out a thin hand to him, smiling a smile that faded when he didn’t take her hand.

“No, I met Dr. Collins in New York.” Janda shook his head, stepping back and looking for his own security people. “You are not Dr. Collins and I’m not sure you’re Interpol.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I am.” The little man opened opened up a folder to reveal a photo of the woman he’d hired in New York. “Dr. Collins came to me with this. Someone stole her identity to gain access to Sotheby’s. We’ve known each other for more than a decade. I assure you, this is the real Dr. Collins.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“OK so explain that bit to me again. You knew Dr. Collins, and you knew she was working with Shield on all the stuff we’ve been liberating from Hydra? How did she get mixed up in this?” 

Parker looked sheepish as she sipped at her vanilla cream monstrosity. How she managed that when even his metabolism went into sugar shock, he didn’t know. 

“We knew Sterling kept tabs on her because she’s Nate’s ex-wife. And she’s worked with us before on various things. He’s still determined to be the one to arrest us because of our history with him,” Eliot said. 

“Does she know that this is one of your jobs?” Steve asked, rubbing at James’ knee under the table. It was calming for him this time around. 

“A little birdie might have mentioned something fun coming her way,” Hardison replied. 

“Okay. So why Interpol?” 

“Because we had to do something to keep Sterling out of our hair. We gave him the tips on all the illegal artwork Janda and the others had. Including several that were on the Nazi stolen lists from your time.” 

“There’s no way Shield could’ve managed that on our own,” Bobbi said, then winced a little at her slip. “I mean, their own. Besides, that art belongs to the world. It’ll be interesting to see what happens with it.” 

Steve turned back to watch the show on the floor, just as Hunter was wheeling in the crates shipped through Delta, wearing the clothes of a delivery guy. “And you’re sure he’s not going to recognize Hunter?” 

“Nope. Guys like Janda, they don’t pay attention to the serving class. They’re all background noise to him,” Eliot said with a sneer. Steve would have to remember that.

~ ~ ~ ~

Janda turned to curse, rubbing at his head, pausing to see the art delivery people from Delta wheel in the boxes. Maybe he could use that as a way out? “There. That’s what I bought. I demand you look at that as soon as possible.” The well built man behind the two wheeled dolly smiled nervously as they all converged on him. 

Dr. Collins slipped on a pair of gloves as the boxes were taken into the first floor glass walled conference room. The first box she opened held the Aztec pyramid. She lifted it up to the light, turning to look at the etchings on the back, pausing to take a look at the notes in her own folder. “This, I would need to look at closer to confirm, but my initial review is that it’s authentic.” She tapped at the etches, chuckling softly. “The Lost City theory. So glad that got invalidated last year.” 

Janda frowned as she pushed it aside. How did she know about the Lost City? The second box held the Coyote kachina doll, and also passed inspection, without comment this time. The third crate he wasn’t worried about. They’d been his choices. 

Dr. Collins went slowly through the smaller pieces. The small jade headdress carving, the turquoise parrot, and the green stone yoke were as he expected, then she pulled out the last item. Instead of the quill and bone choker, it was the Comanche ammunition bag. 

“That’s not mine. I did not bid on that!” He stuttered, looking at it in horror. 

Sterling flipped through his folder then compared it with Dr. Collins as she pulled it out for inspection. “This matches the sales records we received from Sotheby’s. Are you saying they forged their records?” 

“I’m saying someone did because I did not bid on that!” 

Sterling slid a signed receipt in front of him, detailing all six art items, with his own signature at the bottom. “Then this is not your signature?” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“The paperwork…” Steve started. 

“Couple different hand offs,” Hardison started. “First the paperwork we whipped up on our fake investment group. Then Sophie put in a couple pages with Janda’s knowledge and help, and he thought those were the pages that switched the signatures of Eliot selling everything to him.” 

“In complete reverse of what was actually happening.” 

“Right,” Parker picked up. “Then Hunter slipped in a few things for him to sign when he picked up his purchases. Again, doesn’t actually pay attention to the automatons.” The person in question tipped his nutmeg chai in a salute. “And now Janda’s just figuring out that double switch, I think. But it doesn’t stop there.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Sterling,” Dr. Collins interrupted, turning to hold out the pouch to them. “This is a forgery. The stitching is an excellent reproduction but the leather is too new. It’s been artificially aged. And it has this inside of it.” 

She pulled a silver block out of it. Janda’s pulse jumped three times. It was the sensory alloy he’d given to Marissa. “I’ve never seen that before in my life,” he lied, his breath catching with his rising panic. He’d been set up. “I think I need to go speak with my lawyer now. Someone’s obviously framing me.” 

He turned to let himself out of the conference room, but on the other side, a famous face smiled at him. The Black Widow, trademarked red hair falling down her shoulders, stood with her arms crossed and eyebrow cocked. 

“Oh, yes, I met the lovely Natasha Romanov in New York too. She asked me to keep an eye out for black market items, such as this.” He turned to look at Sterling holding the block with his own gloved hand. “Extraordinary. It feels so light.” 

The door was opening, and several other lawyers came in. Including the Widow. “Maxwell Janda? You’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason, black mail, and the illegal transportation of art and objects of antiquity. The owner of the building made a startling discovery of black market objects upstairs when he started to take inventory.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Now that alloy, you didn’t mention it last night.” Steve gave his best ‘I expect more of you’ look at Hardison.

“We didn’t want to ruin all the surprises!” Hardison answered, then looked at Parker, who was grinning wide. 

“That was my last minute addition. I found it in that mansion we raided, with all the other artwork. It was about to be shipped along with all the stuff they were sending with the girls.”

“That’s the stuff they used in my arm,” James said softly. He was looking over at the window where Nat was doing her part. “I think they were going to use it on Rumlow, from what Natasha explained.” Steve winced a bit at how close they came from having that asshole become a super soldier too. 

“Except they didn’t have it. I did.” Parker explained. “I took it over to the airport where Hunter was controlling Janda’s baggage and slipped it into the ammo bag. I figured that if Hydra wanted it that bad, they’d blame Janda for doublecrossing them on it.” 

“Oh!” Bobbi interrupted. “Found out, that wasn’t Stephanie Malick who came here that night. It was probably Marissa Pierce, wearing a face scrambler to imitate Malick.” 

“Huh,” Eliot murmured, rubbing at his jaw. “So it was a good thing we didn’t have James with us that night. She would’ve recognized him and broken up the con before it even got started.” 

Steve shivered a bit at that thought. 

~ ~ ~ ~

“Owner!! No, I am the owner of this building! I demand to speak to whoever is in charge! I’m the one being robbed!”

Romanov looked down at the paperwork in her hands, then turned the top sheet to let him see. It was the paperwork he’d had Gibson sign to turn over all their artwork to him. Only it wasn’t an investment agreement. It was a bill of sale, of the building and of Rydr itself. Signed by himself and Kaleb Srinivasa. “I believe that’s your signature. Everything checks out.” 

“That’s not what I… this is preposterous!” Another famous face, Hawkeye stepped in beside the Widow with handcuffs. Janda continued to try to throw out everything he could as he was handcuffed. “I need my lawyer! Ruby Martin!” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, she’s not available right now. She’s busy explaining why her servers are storing pornographic photos of ordinary and some… not so ordinary people.” The Widow smiled at him, a twisted thing. Maybe dad had been right. They’d been fools to trust the Red Room with anything.

The last thing he saw before they pushed him into the police car were a group of people standing by the dugout. That little taxi owner he’d been pushing out of business, Srinivasa, surrounded by the fake Maggie Collins, Gibson, his father, the so-called art expert they’d brought, and a group of other people he didn’t recognize. Except for the Delta delivery guy, who pulled off his hat to give the fake Collins a kiss on the cheek. 

Then he was in the car, being driven away, still trying to piece together what had just happened. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Steve cocked his head as he watched Sterling, Natasha, and Clint escort Janda out, along with some of the other people in the company that had helped make this mess. He and James had stayed in the coffee shop while the crew went out and had their gloat moment.

“So the switched paperwork also included Janda signing away his company and the building to Kaleb. Which means everything here, including the safe and the servers are his now.”

“Right. And Hardison found all the revenge porn hidden on another server that Ruby Martin controlled. They had enough on there to blackmail half of city hall.” James made a face at that. Explaining revenge porn to him had frustrated them all. Steve still wanted to punch the smarmy little bastard for that. 

“And now Janda, Martin, Pierce, and Rumlow, they’re all answering to either Shield, Interpol, or the US Justice system for all the shit they pulled. All in a very neat, air tight package. That’s amazing.” 

“They are the best.” James leaned in a bit, humming softly. “Reminded me a lot of you, actually. Even if I didn’t know it at first.” 

Steve felt warmth rising up his cheeks, so he changed the subject. “And now this job’s all done?” 

“Not quite,” James said, turning to look at the group of people again. “We’ve got a few more things to take care of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK yes, the title is from the movie Prestige. You gotta admit, the way Cutter explains the premise of a magic trick also matches the build of a good con. 
> 
> Okay Spoilers time! Stephanie Malick was killed in S3E16 by a character named Hive, who was brought back from another world. The story line there was that Hydra was descendants of people trying to bring Hive back from that world after he was banished. An Inner Circle of rich people manipulating things their way. It was never explicitly said but I'm assuming Alexander Pierce was in that Inner Circle and so therefore was his daughter. Werner von Strucker was the son of the do-do brain that helped develop Wanda and Pietro's powers in Ultron. He was killed in Season 3 as well. So I just borrowed all that story line to play with. This con takes place at the same time as all that. 
> 
> Episodes I borrowed from were the Snow Job, the trick with the paperwork, and the King George Job, with all the art history. Not quite done with the story, but like Part 2, I'll give links to all the real life stuff I've been pulling from. Including why I used Delta as my delivery service. ;)
> 
> Edit: I can't believe I forgot to add in! The carvings on the pyramid piece I mention and the Lost City that Maggie refers to is season 2 of Agents of Shield. The finale of that plot thread started the Inhuman thread of Season 3, leading up to Hive.


	33. Closer To Home

James watched Natasha and Clint direct Shield groups into the building, but he didn’t really pay attention to them. Eliot was talking softly with Hardison on how to slip out without Sterling seeing them but they didn’t get the chance. 

Kaleb turned to them, his eyes shining as he took everything in. “This is not what I expected. I just wanted a chance to keep my business!” 

“And you still have that,” Hardison answered. “But all these people that rely on Rydr, the drivers and their customers, they’re gonna need someone to help them out too. That’s almost nine hundred drivers that’d be out of a job, and all the administrators and techs who run the thing.” 

“Not to mention, in debt to the company they drove for. Hardison found some hinky stuff in the contracts they agreed to,” Parker added. “No, they need an honest man to help them out too.” 

The taxi owner nodded a little, then shifted to look around the rapidly emptying lobby before taking a deep breath and straightening his back. He turned to them, nodding again. “I think I can try to do that. And I know who to ask for help, too.” Then he smiled shyly. “Thank you, for everything.” 

Eliot stepped up to shake his hand. “This is what we do.” 

James felt Steve lean in against his shoulder, his breath tickling his ear a little. “So, this is kind of cool.” 

He turned to his lover, smiling sheepishly. “It’s good though, right?” 

Steve nodded, squeezing his side a little. “Very good. What happens next?” 

“Well…” James paused, turning around completely to look at the canoe behind him. “We start here.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Eliot stopped the truck when James said they were in place, then hopped out. The Nisqually Administration and Cultural Center was lit brightly against the dark night. Clouds hung low and heavy, but they were holding back the rain right now. That just served to make the two story complex shine brighter against the backs of the council members and tribe members who’d come to take part of the ceremony. 

Kaleb was beside him as they went to shake hands with them. Everything was subdued, because it wasn’t about them. “I think we’re ready, yeah?” 

“Please. We’re ready.” The seven council members followed them back to the truck, but stood back as James and Steve opened the back of the truck. Inside, Parker and Hardison had set everything up to roll out smoothly. 

Eliot squeezed Kaleb’s shoulder, then went to take his spot beside James. As the box rolled forward, he picked up the front left carry brace as Kaleb took the front right. Together they walked it forward enough for James and Steve to take the back corners and walk it forward out of the truck. Together, they carried it forward to the council members. 

Silently, their places were taken by the Nisqually themselves. They were the ones to take the long box inside and open it up to reveal the dugout canoe, then lift it into it’s new place of pride in the center of the lobby. 

Eliot watched as an outsider, and did not intrude. None of them did. This was no longer their place. But he was the last to turn back to the truck to leave. There was more work to do.

Still… it was nice when Captain America squeezed his shoulder in a wordless moment of camaraderie. Cap thought what they had just done was a good thing. Reparations, returning things home. He glanced forward to look at James as he leaned into Steve. Yeah, a lot of things were returning home. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Steve slowly woke up to voices down the hall, and a wet rasping across his eyebrow. He twitched, turning with a frown to look at the top of the couch he was sleeping on. Malaya mrowled back from her perch, then reached out to paw at his eyebrow, thankfully with no claws. “Cat, I’ve seen a lot of strange things the past few years. Didn’t expect you to be one of them.” 

She pawed at him again in response, then jumped to his belly, making him cough in reflex, then launched herself to her cat tree. Steve wheezed a bit as he sat up, rubbing at his belly and looking at the door. The conference between the Leverage members was still going, it sounded like. Which gave him time to make plans of his own. 

It took four rings, but then Rebecca answered with a light voice. “Steve, what’s up?”

“Hey Becky, just checking in.” He smirked as he used the hated nickname. “How’s the project going?” 

“I am so gonna use you for target practice when you get back for that.” A soft pause, then the sound of a door closing. “Project’s on schedule, ready for whenever you get home. You think you’ll make it on the day?” 

“Gonna find out soon, I’ll let you know.” The voices were settling. He couldn’t pick out specific words, but it sounded like they were in agreement. “I’ll text you as soon as I know.” He paused, then bit the bullet. “How are Bruce and Tony doing?” 

“It was a little tense for a day or two. Then they had a good shouting match and got it out of their systems. Then Betty came to visit.” 

“Betty, as in Betty Ross?” That wasn’t a name he’d actually heard out loud before, only read in Banner’s file.

“Yep. Evidently, they spent a little time together, coming to terms, while he was on his sabbatical.” 

“Huh, go figure. I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.” Steve smirked a bit. He’d yet to get the whole story from her about how she played Bruce’s little spy on the team. 

“Actually, I had no clue until she came into the Tower yesterday. The three of them have been holed up in Tony’s bio lab, doing Science ever since.” A soft pause, then she added. “Wanda’s asking for you.” 

“I’ll call her next, promise.” Malaya chirped at the door, shifting to swish her tail in the air as it opened. “Gotta go. I’ll talk to you again soon, Becky.”

“Fuck you, Rogers.” He laughed as the line went dead, then looked up into James’ face. 

“Thought you’d still be asleep.” The door closed behind him, then he came to sit beside Steve, leaning into him a little.

“I was, then Malaya complained that I was boring.” He reached up to rub at his eyebrow, laughing.

James laughed too, shaking his head. “Cats are weird.” He shrugged, then leaned in a little harder.

“You guys decided what’s next?” Steve guessed.

“Yeah, you could say that.” James paused, then looked across the room at his work desk, jaw flexing a little as he thought. “When I met them, I didn’t know what to expect. I just knew they could help… sort everything out. At the time, I just didn’t want to face anything.” He reached up to tap the side of his head. “Marissa couldn’t use those words, but they’re still there. Who knows how I’ll react the next time.” 

Steve wanted to wrap his arms around James tight, but he settled for shifting closer to press to him again. James smiled, turning to watch him with soft eyes. “Now that I know who I am, I can actually decide what I want.” 

Steve nodded, finding a smile, and a touch of hope when James didn’t pull away. “You know I’m here for you, if you decide to stay here, or go somewhere else.” 

“I know,” James said softly, then leaned in to gently brush his lips against Steve’s before pulling back again. “I think I want to go home first.” He paused, then nodded. “And see Peggy too.” 

Something inside of him softened and loosened up, letting him breath. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

Walking into Tony’s lab again made the servos in his arm want to twitch. Which was ridiculous, because they were merely metal and electrical, not flesh. That wanted to twitch too, but James drew on his conditioning to keep himself controlled. Who knew something from _them_ would actually be useful. 

He relaxed when he realized Tony wasn’t there, just Banner and Rebecca, and a third woman he didn’t know. Steve squeezed his right bicep before pushing past him to greet her by name. Betty Ross. Something tickled the back of his head at that name, so he followed closer. Rebecca turned and squeaked when she saw him, pushing out of her chair to run over and hug him. “About time you got here. We’ve been running a few tests and we think we’ve got something.” 

James hugged her back tightly. She smelled like jasmine and vanilla and home. “Tell me how Beth is first.” 

Rebecca laughed a bit as she pulled back. “She’s fine. Natasha freaked her out a bit. But she’s been staying with grandma a lot.” Her voice dropped, just for him. “She still doesn’t remember anything before Harlem.” 

James nodded, finding a smile for Rebecca. “I’ll go see them next. But first, what’s this all about?” 

“Wanda thinks she knows how to erase the programming. For all of you.” Rebecca smiled, then slipped away to punch Steve, hard, on the bicep. James laughed as Steve yelped and winced, exaggerating his move away from her. “That’s for calling me Becky!” 

Bruce was laughing at that, so James felt comfortable enough to get drawn into what they were working on. Comfortable enough that he barely jumped when a robotic vise gently tapped against his metal arm. He wasn’t wearing his sleeve today, not around people Steve swore wouldn’t freak out about it. 

James turned to look, reaching out to let it inspect his fingers. A second bot rolled up, servos squeaking in an obvious question. “Yeah, it’s part of me.” He wiggled his fingers at both of them, laughing as they reacted a lot like Malaya did at a new crinkle toy, backing up in playful surprise.

“That’s Dum-E and U. I think they like you,” Bruce murmured, not even looking up from his microscope. 

“Are they like Friday?” James mused, holding his hand out again for them to inspect.

“Ah, no. Friday’s much more advanced, thank you,” Tony said, stepping out of the shadow across the room. James pulled back in surprise, folding his traitorous hand out of sight. 

“Well, they’re quite intelligent, just not the level of Friday,” Rebecca said evenly, changing the image on the screen. “Hey Tony, since you’re here, why don’t you tell them about that sensory alloy?” 

“Yeah. That’s some nasty stuff. Friday?” James twitched a bit as screens flashed up with chemical analysis. They scrolled through, then he saw the same diagram of the interior of his arm, marked where the alloy was embedded to bone and nerve endings. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone without a full dose of the serum would survive that. And no one outside Hydra would think of it.” 

“Did you figure out how they were gonna use it on Rumlow?” Steve asked. James was still watching Tony from across the table. Both the bots had rolled away, the one called Dum-E picking up a well used screwdriver to hold near Tony’s elbow. 

“Yeah. They were going to try and bypass his nervous system to plug him into a suit like mine, only he’d fly it much like you use your arm, direct synaptic control instead of cybernetic like I do.” 

“Nasty,” Betty said, shuddering a bit as she changed her own focus. She was tall and slim, dark hair pulled back in a pony tail like Rebecca’s. The name still tugged at his memory. 

“Yeah. At least Number Nine here can help us figure out other uses for it.” Tony’s eyes were on his shoulder, making him squirm. 

“Seriously Tony, Number Nine?” Rebecca retorted. “Digging for obscure there.” She tossed a wire spring at the genius, then turned to look at the clock before nudging at Steve. “That’s for later, though. It’s time.” 

Steve looked up too, then grinned at James. He frowned in response. “What are you two up to?” 

“Nothing bad,” Steve promised. “Eliot and Parker are behind this.” Steve turned to look back at Tony. “Come on. Five minutes. You’ll enjoy it and then get to run away.” 

“Fine. Just cause you promised not to blow up my building. That hacker’s still nibbling away at my system.” Tony made a face that made James want to laugh. It reminded him of Eliot when Hardison was too much... Hardison. 

“It’s what comes natural to him. Just like you hacking Shield the day we met,” Steve said. James found a warm hand in his, tugging him along to the elevator. He went willingly. Being in a room with Tony made too many memories float up, the wrong kind. 

Which reminded him of a question. He tugged at Steve’s hands, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Is Natasha back yet?” 

“I think so. Friday? Did Agent Romanov make it back from her thing?” 

“She did, Captain. She’s waiting for you downstairs.” 

“See?” The grin that Steve gave him definitely was not trustworthy. And it didn’t fade in the elevator ride to Rebecca’s apartment. 

Parker opened the door with a smile, then reached to hug him. He didn’t want to admit how relieved he was to see her. But he was, especially with a very noisily protesting Stark coming out of the elevator behind them. “What is this?” 

Parker tiptoed and whispered, “March tenth. It’s your birthday.” 

Oh. 

Oh god. 

Steve was turning around in front to smile back at him, but Parker just squeezed his hand and walked with him. Rebecca was making some sort of noise that made him wonder if she was breathing okay, but ignored it to follow Steve into Rebecca’s living room. 

Becca was there, smiling and waiting for him. Beth was next to her, blonde hair freshly curled and wearing a pencil skirt and jacket that made him think of Carter. Hardison and Eliot were both standing in front of a table, talking to Clint, Sam, and Natasha. Voices in the kitchen made him wonder who else was there, but he trusted Parker to keep it from overwhelming him. 

He shoved Steve out of the way, just because he could, and went over to hug Becca tight. “Hi. Is this your doing?” 

She hugged back just as tight, laughing. “No, it was Steve and Rebecca.”

“Okay, I’ll get them back later, then.” To his surprise, he got a tight hug from Beth next. Her story was still unknown to him, but they had time now, time to let it unravel at her pace. 

Once he got hugs from Natasha and Clint, they turned him around to look at the cake coming out of the kitchen. Becca’s son Nathan and Rebecca carried it out between them. It was larger than he remembered, enough for the group that had gathered, but otherwise it was exactly like the cakes his memory associated with his childhood. Thankfully, there were no candles on it. 

Gifts were also small, more tokens than anything. Photos and momentos, with small notes explaining their importance to the giver as much as the reason they were given. Even Tony had a tiny magnet with a hook for him. “So you can hang your keys on your arm and not misplace them.”

Rebecca had swatted him hard about that. 

Most of them didn’t stay, but filtered through pretty quickly. Either Parker, Eliot, Steve, or Becca were within reach at all times, except when he slipped into the bathroom to have five minutes of silence to himself. They were trying to be supportive without overwhelming, he knew. But it was still a relief when everyone said goodnight and let him just be. 

Almost everyone. Natasha fit herself onto the elevator with James and Steve, riding up to their apartment, just smiling.

“Your trip went well, I take it,” Steve said dryly as he let all three of them in.

“Mmhmm. Took a bit longer than I expected, but it was good.” 

James turned to her, licking his lips as he watched her for a moment. She let him ask at his own pace. “You found out about Beth?” 

Natasha nodded. “I found what I needed to track down everyone in the Winter program. They’re all accounted for.” 

That made Steve pause and twist around. “You found Julianna?” 

James found a chair almost immediately. He forced his hands together to keep from breaking the wood arm from holding on tight. “And it’s… she’s… It’s true?” 

Natasha came to sit beside him, one hand light on his clasped knot of fingers. “It is. It’s good.”

“Does she know?” 

“No. I don’t think she’s ready. At her own pace, in her own time. Rebecca’s hopeful about it, of course.” 

Steve stared at the two of them. The look on his face was almost identical to the one in Seattle, when they had gotten that first moment alone together. “Wait… You mean Beth?” 

Natasha laughed, but nodded. “Beth is Julianna. Her story is her own. Let her come to it in her own time, Steve.” 

“Yeah, of course, but… wow. I was getting prepped for a long hunt to find her.” He was sitting on the floor now. James wanted to laugh at the look on his face, but he held it in.

“I know. That’s why I needed to do this first. If I hadn’t found the right records, then we would’ve needed the hunt,” Natasha said. Her voice was soft, but supportive. She sounded a lot like Sophie, when they were doing their sessions. 

“We should talk about that. Later though. I need some time to adjust,” James admitted. The whole day was rattling against his nerves. His first birthday part in… who cares how long. He had a birthday now. One step closer to being completely human.

Natasha nodded, then stood up, stepping over Steve’s long legs. “Walk me to the door?”

James stood up, following her despite his rattling nerves. She kissed his cheek once, then pulled out a small, flat object wrapped in plain silver paper. “No one else knows about this now. Just you and me. I didn’t copy it.” 

James returned to sit on the floor next to Steve to open it. Inside was a slim journal. The red cover was damaged and warped. The black star on the cover had a score through it. Inside, Natasha had left a simple note on a slip of paper that simply said, “Everyone who had a hand in creating this, is dead. You are free of them.”

“We need to talk to Wanda now,” Steve said. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

James closed the journal, then shoved it under the cushion of the couch. “Tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing more threads in to bind them together. 
> 
> Number Nine... that's me being cute. Bear with me. New York. Ice. Ice hockey? New York Rangers. Adam Graves. Wore #9. Ice and graves are Tony's idea of a pun on James' past. Bad pun. That's what he's good at, right? Oh, and incidentally, Graves and the Rangers won the Stanley Cup in 1994. Which was also the first time Russian players got their names engraved as champions: Sergei Nemchinov, Sergei Zubov, Alexei Kovalev, and Aleksandr Karpotsev (RIP). All were Soviet trained too, and played for national teams, esp Zubie. I miss that guy.
> 
> One more chapter to go, the finale and my link spam. *gulp*


	34. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotsa links and notes at the bottom.

Eliot had to admit, Avengers Academy was pretty impressive. Parker had already broken in once, but seeing the security from the inside out, he had to admit her skills might have gone up another level. He wasn’t going to tell her that though. She was already smirking enough. 

The garden was open air and chilly. Rebecca had already claimed the best corner, and he had a feeling she’d staked it out a long time ago. He sat across from her against the opposite wall, where Wanda had told him to sit. Parker was leaning against his shoulder, watching the same thing he was. 

Vassiliev and James were digging into a planter, murmuring softly in Russian to each other. To his relief, Tolya hadn’t recognized him at all or reacted regarding the fight they’d had in Seattle. His attention had been solely on James. 

Those two had spent a solid three hours together in isolation. No cameras, no audio, at James’ request. But both had looked a lot more relaxed when they had come out. Now they were calmly digging into the dirt to replant the bulbs according to Tolya’s wishes. Wanda sat next to them, moving things at their request and talking softly. 

Eliot was studying how she moved things with the red energy, not even watching James when everything stopped. The red energy disappeared and all three stopped talking. It almost felt like they weren’t breathing either. 

The silence was broken by laughter. Both Tolya and James were staring at each other, eyes wide as they laughed. “Parker, say the words!”

She lifted up to go kneel next to James. Eliot could hear her clearly, saying the phrases for both men, every single word that James had taught her. They only laughed in return. Wanda was smiling bright and leaning back. 

“They’re gone. All the words, they’re gone!” James said between laughs. Tolya didn’t say anything, but turned his face up to the weak March sunlight, tears streaking through the dirt on his cheeks as he laughed. 

Eliot didn’t mind that there were a few tears on his face as well.

~ ~ ~ ~

Parker held in her reaction so no one would notice, but the nursing home frightened her, in a way. The smells weren’t ones she was used to. Then there were the people who lived here. Some of their clients had been this old before, but… None of them had been like this. 

Steve came out of the room, then held his hand out to James. “Sharon’s here too, but it’s a good day. She wants to see you.” 

James swallowed hard and held onto Parker’s hand tight while taking Steve’s hand in the other. The room they went in was tastefully done. All the medical equipment was kept discreetly out of sight, but it was a hospital room, no matter how it was dressed.

The woman who lay in the bed was frail, but she was smiling. It was easy for Parker to see the young Peggy Carter in her face, and in those bright eyes. “Sergeant Barnes. Steve said you were here.” 

“Hey Pegs. It’s just James now.” His voice was soft, his hand gentle when it pulled free of hers. Both men went to sit in the chairs by her side. Sharon drifted over to stand by Parker, and she could understand her smile easily. It was the smile of a woman who’d completed a very difficult mission. Getting them here in time. 

As long as Carter kept watching them, she remembered. James handled the reintroductions much better than Parker did, each time she came back to him with surprise. Eventually she excused herself to sit in the bathroom, watching her hands shake for several long minutes while they spoke. 

“I read your book,” James said softly, during one of the lucid moments. 

“Oh, that was dreadfully boring. I hope you didn’t fall asleep!” 

“No, it wasn’t boring at all. I… I’m sorry. About Howard. About everything.” 

“James, it wasn’t your fault. You did not choose to do those things, I know.” 

“But I still did them.” 

“Well… Look at it this way. Howard only had two decades to mess Tony up. Just imagine how bad he’d be if Howard had gotten more time with him.” 

Parker decided she liked this lady as Steve cracked up and Sharon coughed away her laughter. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Brooklyn… it had changed. Most of those memories were fuzzy, unless they involved Steve or Rebecca, or someone else directly. Even then, James wasn’t sure he’d be able to find his way home again. Not on his own. 

The big multi-generational house they were at now, this wasn’t home. But it might become a favorite place to be. Rebecca Jr swore that they had handpicked only the best behaved of their family to come over this time. Then she’d punched him in the (right) arm for calling her Junior. Steve had laughed so hard he fell over. 

Rebecca had also showed him how to slip out of the upstairs window onto the roof, then left him to it. Under the eaves, he could see the scratch marks of someone counting days. He’d found the little nook on his own, and he wondered how many of them knew about the echo in the chimney. He could hear them all just fine.

“You think they’ll stay in New York?” Gwendolyn was asking Steve. 

“Maybe. It’s his decision to make.” He could see Steve shrugging as he pictured the scene.

“And what about you, Steve? We all know your home is with Bu- uhm... James. How’s that going to play out for you?” That was Nathan, Rebecca’s son. Rebecca’s dad. OK, the Junior nickname might be staying for a while.

Steve laughed softly. “You’ll see. It’ll all work out.” 

Great. The damn fool had a plan now. Last time one of his grand plans worked out, they’d ended up chasing Hydra Gen One across Europe. 

He’d have to thank Barton for that nickname later. 

The conversation moved, leaving him with the sound of the city to contemplate. No stars were available, something that irked him a little. He was puzzling that one out when the Man with the Plan crawled out of the window to join him.

“So they’re all wondering what’s next,” Steve said when he wedged himself in as close as James would let him. 

“I heard.” He tapped the chimney gently. “Great conductor here.” 

“I meant what I said. Your choice, I go where you go, as long as you let me.” 

“I know.” And he did. It was a little strange, thinking that for maybe five minutes, Steve might actually listen. “But then, you’d get bored.” 

Steve started to protest, then wince. “Or get mad about something.”

“Then probably punch whatever that something was.” A couple punches were traded between them, making them shift around on the pebbly shingles under their butts. 

“So we go back to work, huh?” Steve finally asked.

“Yeah. You think it’ll be okay?”

“Whether it is or not, it’s gonna be fun, at least.” Steve grinned at him, a sparkle bright enough in his eyes to be seen even at this time of night.

James sighed, shaking his head. “Still a goddamn punk, after all.” 

~ ~ ~ ~

The TV in the small lounge was playing video of multiple Captain Americas fighting an onslaught of men in neon green and red armor, with weapons that mimicked the energy bolts Hardison had come to associate with Chitauri weapons. Steve was obviously the biggest Captain. Sam was flying overhead with Iron Man, but Maria was the one leading the battle. “You cool with that?” he asked, turning to watch James watch the TV. 

“Yeah. He’s gotta do things his way, you know.” James was relaxed. He wore his hair with blue streaks through the top layers, faded silver underneath that only peeked out when he moved. He wore a button down silk shirt with comfort. Completely different from the wild eyed lost child they’d found in Portland. 

“And we have work to do as well.” Hardison turned to see Alice greet their next client and lead her to the reserved table in back. “C’mon, let’s go.” 

Five minutes later, the four of them were settled into the booth, letting Kantibhai Olayiwola sip at her drink and collect herself. There were visible scars along her neck above her collar, but she held herself straight. “I know a lot of shit went crazy after them aliens came to town and then again when them Stark robots went crazy. But the police can’t help me with this, I’ve tried. They tell me to talk to Shield, and I tried. But they say they got too much going on. I know that a tiny little lab in Red Hook with two scientists don’t catch much attention, but my boss, I don’t why, but he’s just obsessing over those Chitauri things. Like what the Captains were fighting today. He wasn’t always like this, I swear.” She took the napkin that Eliot offered her, hands shaking just a little.

“This isn’t the type of job we usually take,” Hardison started. He did have his keyboard, and he’d already started researching.

“But we have a specialist on staff now,” Parker finished. She was the one reaching across the table to take Kantibhai’s hand, the way Sophie had once done.

James leaned forward, linking metal with flesh fingers in front of him to look at her. “What kind of obsessing are we talking about here? Cause between the four of us, I’m pretty sure that we can find the right sort of Leverage.”

~ ~ ~ ~ # # # # ~ ~ ~ ~  
_~Fin~_  
~ ~ ~ ~ # # # # ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Holy Toledo, it’s done. Wow. Hey, did you know I started writing this on Bucky’s birthday last year? Totally not planned, but yeah, March 10th. It’s canon! March 10th, 1917. Ol’ James be 100 today. By the calendar, anyways… Actual elapsed time out of the ice… who knows? 

Anyways! I have some tidbits for you, just like after the Rent Job. Let’s go with the Uber/Rydr links first. Let me apologize in advance if you happen to drive for Uber. I have dabbled in economic theory reading here and there… and what I see of Uber kinda scares me. 

Starting small. Uber in Portland got fined for lobbying violations:  
[City Auditor Fines Uber $2000 for Lobbying Violations](http://www.pamplinmedia.com/pt/9-news/287593-164621-city-auditor-fines-uber-2000-for-lobbying-violations)

Profile on Travis Kalanick about how much of a shit he is. Srsly, he reminds me of Trump. He’s got the ego for it too.  
[Man and Uber Man](http://www.vanityfair.com/news/2014/12/uber-travis-kalanick-controversy)

These next two links are where I get into why I do not like their business strategy. Uber can’t get people to drive for them. According to this article, at least half their drivers quit after six months. So instead of fixing their business model… they’ve decided to become lienholders on the very cars their drivers work with. Sub-prime means higher interest rates, sometimes upwards to 30%.  
[Uber is in the Sub-Prime Auto Business](http://www.houstonchronicle.com/business/outside-the-boardroom/article/Uber-is-in-the-sub-prime-auto-business-7955561.php?t=4ca09c1fff&cmpid=twitter-premium)

Oh but that’s not enough. Don’t have a checking account to deposit your money into? We’ll give you your hard earned money on cards that will charge you fees to use! On one hand, you get your money that you earned from the day whenever you want it. On the other, they charge you $8.95 monthly for the convenience. And if you opt for the Mastercard/Visa debit, you pay more to access your money. [don’t get me started on the predatory check cashing industry] I swear I had another link for the MC/Visa thing, but I can’t find it.  
[Uber is offering a new debit card that will help its drivers get paid instantly](https://qz.com/641250/ubers-new-debit-card-will-help-drivers-get-paid-instantly/)

Oh, and how much are they strangling companies in Seattle? Uber has something like 6600 drivers in Seattle alone, as of last January.  
[Uber and Lyft didn't want you to know - but they have over 9,200 drivers in Seattle](http://www.seattletimes.com/seattle-news/politics/county-opens-permit-records-uber-lyft-drivers-top-9200/)

And they’re not that popular with their own drivers:  
[Survey Finds Lyft Drivers Happier than Uber, Though Pay Has Declined](http://www.npr.org/sections/alltechconsidered/2017/01/21/510479642/survey-finds-lyft-drivers-happier-than-uber-though-pay-has-declined?utm_content=bufferff0a4&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer)

Going back to that comment about the business model? I’m not the only one who sees problems with it:  
[Uber is Doomed](http://jalopnik.com/uber-is-doomed-1792634203)

One last rideshare link. This is where I got the revenge porn part. Yeah, unfortunately it’s real:  
[Craig Brittain is Starting an Uber Competitor](http://fusion.net/story/240835/craig-brittain-is-starting-an-uber-competitor/)

~

Now on to the art side of the story. A lot of my artwork came from actual Sotheby’s catalogs. You can see current and past catalogs at the link below. The pieces I made up for the sake of my story was the pyramid piece and the ammo pouch. Although the ammo pouch description is based on real artifacts.  
Sotheby’s:  
[African, Oceanic, and Pre-Columbian Art](http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/2016/african-oceanic-pre-columbian-art-n09502.html)

Two great museums in Lawton Oklahoma that highlight the Comanche history, as well as Kiowa, Wichita, and other tribes:  
Fort Sill museum: [Fort Sill Museum Exhibits](http://sill-www.army.mil/museum/FSNHLM/exhibits.html)  
\- Where Geronimo is buried. Also, it is the last of the “indian forts” still in operation today. Army artillery training is very active, so expect big booms.  
[Museum of the Great Plains](http://www.discovermgp.org/) Haven’t personally been here. YET. :)

~

The Nisqually! 

Being a child of the plains, Pacific Northwest history is a wide open book of new stuff for me. 

A very nice modern events article about the Nation:  
[ 'Never Give Up Fighting' - 10 things to Know About Nisqually Tribe](http://indiancountrytodaymedianetwork.com/2016/06/24/never-give-fighting-10-things-know-about-nisqually-tribe-164913?page=0%2C2)

Wikipedia also has an article on the Puget Sound War of 1855, but I have… concerns about how they write their info. So here’s a more nuanced telling. It also is more inclusive, acknowledging several nations were involved.  
The Puget Sound War

The name I referred to in Eliot’s background piece in chapter 1, James Tilton, was a real person. And there were a lot of people looting afterwards, although I do not know specifically if he did. The dugout I created for the story is based off historical accounts, but not on any specific one. Also.. Tilton River and Fort Tilton were named after this guy, so I didn’t feel so bad picking on him.  
[James Tilton (surveyor)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Tilton_\(surveyor\))

~

Native American Art, black market, and questionable provenances of said artifacts. Yeah, I could write a whole thesis paper on this. A lot of people have. Let’s just say that it’s been common since the Mayflower landed and hasn’t stopped. The scalp that Parker found in the safe? It’s also a common occurrence. My personal belief is such things should be buried with ceremony, not displayed as art.

When I mentioned in Eliot’s background story about the black market raid, I was referencing this story in specific:  
[An Exclusive Look at the Greatest Haul of Native American Artifacts, Ever](http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/exclusive-greatest-haul-native-american-artifacts-looted-180956959/?no-ist)

Another event that gave me the impulse to include it in the story was the auction in Paris of Native artifacts last summer. The Hopi had made a determined effort to stop the auction, but since it was in Paris, American laws did not apply. To put it in perspective of the Nations represented in the auction, it’s like the Goths sacking the Vatican in modern day then going to China to sell the relics and trappings of Catholic faith as artwork.  
[Paris auction house turns deaf ear to Native American Appeals](https://www.pri.org/stories/2016-05-27/paris-auction-house-turns-deaf-ear-native-american-appeals)  
[Sakred Hopi tribal masks are again sold at auction in Paris](http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/arts/culture/la-et-cm-native-american-hopi-sacred-mask-auction-paris-20140627-story.html) (Note, pop up blockers will trigger a white list request on this page.)

 

A lot of these artifacts were taken during the westward expansion of the US and the wars against the Nations in the land grabs. One site jumps to mind most readily because one, it’s Oklahoman, and two, it was documented while it was happening. The Spiro Mound excavations:  
[Craig Mound & Artifacts Abstract](http://lithiccastinglab.com/gallery-pages/2010augustcraigmoundartifactspage1.htm)

Spiro to me is pretty awesome because it was a major trading point between the cliff dwelling peoples of the west, namely the Chaco Canyon complex, and the peoples of the east, including another Mound building culture in the Mississippi valley. In fact, at its height, Cahokia in the valley was larger than most European cities at the time. [ Disclosure: I may or may not have written a paper about transcontinental trade in college.]

Thankfully, there are people fighting it. At one of the Paris auctions, plus other places, clandestine bidding was used to buy back what they could, with money from fund raising and donations.  
[A Bid to Restore Spiritual Artifacts to Hopi and Apache Tribes](http://articles.latimes.com/2013/dec/22/nation/la-na-hopi-masks-20131223)

So yeah, I feel pretty ah… I get really heated about these things. One of the reasons I’ll never teach history. Heh. Except in my writing. How does this all tie in with the pipeline in South Dakota? A lot of the construction went over burial sites just discovered in the past decade or so, thanks to orbital photography. Thanks NASA! These sites were unprotected and who knows what still remains or what was stolen. 

~

And so I don’t end with a sour taste, I have minor headcannons I wanna throw at you! Believe it or not *looks at the previous 180k words* there was a lot that didn’t make it into the fic. 

~ 

Bethany Klein made her presence known when Rebecca Barnes-Klein was in the middle of her final draft on her thesis paper. Cameron did most of the emotional labor with the newborn baby while momma finished said thesis on genetic structure and chemical mutation of DNA strands, but he had at least a dozen babysitters on speed dial, should he need them. 

Beth herself became internet famous when the videos she made with Rebecca Sr on how to re-create 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s hairstyles and makeup went viral on YouTube. Friday was the camera woman, although she was never publicly credited, at her request. 

Anatoli Vasiliev never really integrated with the outside world. He visits now and then. But he’s quite happy at the Academy complex. He’s taken over most of the gardening, usually without consulting anyone but Maria Hill about what to plant. Every spring, her desk has a fresh Stargazer Lily on it while they bloom. The vegetable garden gets very extensive. 

Annie Gallagher, from the Rent Job, went on from managing the apartment complex to city council, after winning the seat vacated by Ruby Martin. Little Stevie doesn’t have digestive issues at all. Annie made handling the homeless epidemic in Seattle her first priority. 

D.A. Weber got out of the con and spy businesses. He’s now the liaison between the Cloverfield rehabilitation complexes and Veteran Affairs in Seattle. He also works pretty closely with Annie on the homeless initiative. Shamea Oneida took over the management of the complexes.

Bobbi Morse and Lance Hunter freelance mostly on their own, but in the Leverage style. Hardison gives them digital support. They’re always on call for when the OT3+J need extra hands on deck.

Maggie Collins still works with Interpol, making sure the art, books, and other artifacts found in Hydra’s possessions get returned to their rightful owners, or the owner’s descendants. 

Sterling stays out of the OT3’s way, now that they’re loosely aligned with the Avengers. However, if something comes up stinking of Hydra or some other corruption of that nature, they get an interesting email about it. Those jobs usually end up with Bobbi and Hunter, since they have the experience to bring into it.

~

Beth is getting her own side fic. Her story was too big to shoehorn into this one. I’m also going to start an Interludes fic, to cover a lot of the stuff that didn’t make it into this one. Such as all the phone calls between James and Steve, and the off screen repair to their relationship in the second half of this one. Not going to promise any sort of schedule right now.

Will there be another Job story? Maybe! Stay subscribed at the series level if you wanna find out. I AM going back to my original fiction though, so it won’t be as involved or constant as this was. I have several worlds of my own to explore, and maybe publish some day. You guys gave me the confidence to chase after that again. Thank you. I learned a whole lot about myself as a writer through this thing. I see many areas where I can make improvements. But hey! I learned how to write a con! I learned better ways of writing action scenes. I never would have learned a lot of things if it hadn't been for this series. Especially this tidbit: Writing is like grifting. Have just enough of the truth to make it plausible, and you too can end up being a European pri-- nope, just adept at telling stories. ;)

Also, I kinda blame the length of this bugger on you guys. Maybe 12% of the blame. ;) Ya’ll just kept encouraging me to keep going!

Florianna beta’d every single word of this thing. All errors are mine, all my cupcakes and adoration are hers. I owe her hockey tickets next time I go to visit. Shhh, she doesn’t know that yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebecca I introduced in my side fic [The Name I Came With](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7499814)


End file.
